Category Archives: Holiday

Family, Holiday

Childhood Treasures on the Christmas Tree

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Decorating the Christmas tree in my childhood home was a much-anticipated event.  We usually picked out a tall Frazier fir, typically well shaped and on the thinner side.  An exception was the bushy long-needled pine we somehow brought home during my Kindergarten year, which I wrote about in 2013.  (See Oh. . . Eww. . . Christmas Tree!) It was sparsely and evidently indifferently decorated.  Why we chose such a tree remains a mystery; that’s a memory my parents and I have blocked.  I suspect we’d rather not think about it, or other memories it stirs up.  Anyway, my recollections of Christmas in Atlanta include a beautiful tree, pleasingly decorated.  It made our living room especially cozy during December.

We acquired more ornaments each year, but we rarely retired any, unless they were broken and hopelessly beyond repair.  We didn’t do themes of color or topic:  no all-pink tree, no Disney tree, certainly no Star Wars tree.  The collection accrued gradually.  Unpacking the same ornaments year after year, then re-packing them in January, they became imprinted on my memory.  Each December I looked forward to unwrapping my favorite ones and finding spots for them on the tree.  I’ve written about the many homemade ornaments my mother and I produced every year.  We turned out multitudes of candy cane horses, tiny Raggedy Anns and Andys, mice in Santa suits, clothespin toy soldiers, pasta angels, etc.  My home and that of my parents are well-stocked with such items.  But there were other ornaments, some homemade, some store-bought, that were one-of-a-kind.  These remain at my parents’ house. 

Since our daughter turned two, it’s been our tradition to spend Christmas here at our home in Virginia.  My parents joined us, until two years ago, when they gave up driving long distances.  They’d rather not fly, so they prefer to stay in Atlanta.  This year Mama told me she didn’t really feel like putting up the tree.  Daddy, especially, would really miss it, but he felt even less up to the task.  It sounded like my cue to fly down for a pre-Christmas visit.  When I realized I could also miss my daughter’s final week of classes before winter break (and all the stress and drama that threatened to entail), it made the decision that much easier.   

So a week ago, I was back in my childhood home, unpacking the many boxes of Christmas decorations my mother had stored so carefully in the attic last winter.  And one by one, I unwrapped all those cherished baubles.  It had been six years since I’d seen them, when we had veered from the usual plan and spent the holiday in Atlanta.  Some ornaments looked nearly as good as new, others showed their very advanced age.  All were as familiar as the faces of dear old friends. 

I’ll share them in a few posts to follow.  They may prompt recollections of treasures from your childhood tree. 

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Faith and Spirituality, Holiday, Nature

Acknowledging that it’s December. . .

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Once again, it’s December.  Too soon, as always.  Although the pre-Christmas busy-ness has been no more extreme than usual, the details have kept my mind too crowded to devote time to writing.  Or to much thought, in general, for that matter.  It’s hard not to let the post-Thanksgiving lead-up to December 25 become an endurance game of checking off never-ending lists.  Lights replaced on the playroom tree?  Yes. Whew. Cross that out.  One small victory.  On to the next task, with many more to follow. 

Last year I wrote about the fine line between reveling in the spirit of Christmas and veering off the deep end into holiday excess.  (See here.)  It’s an issue I guess I’ll grapple with until I’m physically unable to haul out the decorations.  But that might not stop me.  Will I be directing my daughter, or some kindly, younger neighbor?  I hope not.  But then again, no one else could do it to please me. 

Anyway, the wreaths are up on our house and on the old maple stump out front by the road.  The stump survived another year. This summer it played host to a thicket of tall green foliage. 

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As long as any part of the decaying tree remains, we’ll decorate it in December.  For me, it’s a reminder of the true spirit of Christmas: because a baby was born many years ago in Bethlehem, out of death comes new life.  That is the best antidote to holiday excess I can imagine. 

For my first post on this subject, see Deck the Tree Stump, posted almost exactly two years ago.      

Community, Family, Holiday

Veterans’ Day 2015

To all those serving our country now and in the past, at home and far away, during peacetime and war, we thank you.  As for those of us who haven’t walked in your boots, may we never take your bravery, your selflessness and your sacrifice for granted.  Let’s honor our veterans this day and every day.   

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Uncle Bill off to war

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Holiday

Return of the Skeleton Crew

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It’s that time of year again.  As Halloween nears, our friend Slim, who engages in quiet meditation in the spare bedroom eleven months out of the year, comes out to play.  His loyal pooches Fluffy and Champ are by his side and ready to frolic. 

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With Slim out and about, our family is blessed with another errand runner.  And designated driver.  We need more Halloween candy, Slim insists, so he’s off to the store.  Kiko, ever the happy passenger, prepares to ride along.   

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Kiko reminds Champ to buckle up.

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 Be a good boy, Kiko, for Uncle Slim! 

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Here’s what Slim says:  It’s the night before Halloween.  Be ready for fun!

For last year’s photos of the Skeleton Crew, see here. 

Community, Holiday

Happy 4th!

It’s a cloudy, drizzly July 4th here in Northern Virginia, making brightly hued photos of waving flags impossible.  Here, then, are a few images taken under blue skies from past Cape Cod vacations. 

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On this day, and all days, come rain or shine, may we salute and value our common ties as Americans. 

May we work toward liberty and justice for all! 

Family, Holiday, Parenthood

Annual Exercises in Extreme Gift Wrapping

My husband’s feats of gift-wrapping extravagance have become a Christmas tradition.   One year he wrapped presents for our daughter in oversized tubes for casting concrete.  The next he built six hinged plywood boxes that, over the course of several days, coalesced to form a star.  Last year, he enclosed gifts in a tall narrow pyramid and a circular creation suspended from the ceiling.  What would he do this year, my daughter and I wondered? 

He had to be up to something.  He couldn’t give up the practice cold turkey.  It was one that was hard to top, but harder still to stop.  In anticipation, my daughter and I decided to make the first move.  We’d gone to Sears and, with a salesman’s help, picked out a perfectly lovely “air nail gun.”  While we didn’t really know what it was, H had asked for it.  He’d written it on the official “Family Christmas List,” a piece of note paper taped to the kitchen wall. 

We began posting the list several years ago in response to an annual after-Thanksgiving conversation, probably familiar in many households.  Someone would bring up the topic of Christmas gifts.

What do you want for Christmas?

I don’t know.  I really don’t want anything.  I certainly don’t need anything.

You know we’re going to get you something.  You might as well give us some idea.

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We have to have stuff to wrap and put under the tree.  After nearly twenty years of marriage, I’ve become as dedicated a wrapper as my husband, despite being raised in a more minimalist holiday tradition.  H’s Christmas list entries typically consist of highly specialized electronics, tools or windsurfing gear for which my daughter and I can’t be held responsible; we lack the expertise.  He orders them and thanks us for our consideration and generosity.  But this year, D and I actually went to a store and came home with an air nail gun.  We weren’t sure it was the exact one he had in mind, but we kept the receipt.  The package was of medium size and weight.  We disguised it in an exceptionally long box, which we wrapped in three types of paper.  Propped in a chair next to the Christmas tree, it greeted H rather boldly when he returned home from work.  He was pleased to see that we were in the game. 

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His response began a couple of days later, when a single square package appeared by the tree.  Wrapped in shiny paper, it was marked with a large letter E.   An unassuming beginning, perhaps, but one that promised more to come.  Later that night, another foil-encased box appeared atop the first, marked with another letter.  By Christmas morning, there stood, as tall as the tree, a tower of seven packages, the letters spelling out our daughter’s name.  A simple, but impressive presentation.

What’s in the boxes, of course, is of less importance than their visual impact and the process of unwrapping them.  Some might say it’s a terrible waste of paper and not very green.  This is probably true.  But it can also be said that it’s a way of focusing more on the act of giving than on the gift itself.  In this case, our family would agree on the truth of that old adage:  It’s the thought that counts.  Our gift-wrapping is nothing if not thoughtful. 

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Kiko, on the other hand, isn’t so much into thoughtfulness or presentation, at Christmas or any other time.  For him, it’s all about the smell, and he smells treats.  What happened to his stocking?  And is there more beef stick? 

 

Community, Family, Holiday, Nature, Walking the Dog

A White (last day of) Christmas

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The first snow of 2015 arrived here in Northern Virginia in the early hours of January 6.  This final, twelfth day of Christmas marks the visit of the Magi, who followed a star to worship and present their rare gifts to the baby King.  

You could say, then, that we had a somewhat delayed white Christmas.  

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Much to the disappointment and astonishment of my daughter and other local kids, school went on as usual, without even a delay.  After our ten snow days last year, we’ve come to associate even the slightest rumor of a snowflake with a school cancellation.  The snowfall was heavier than predicted, so our winding old roads saw many accidents and delays.  The elementary school bus in our neighborhood was so long in coming, and reports of road conditions so bad, that parents were discussing simply letting the children stay home. 

The dog walking, however, was fine.  Kiko and his friend Ziggy the ridgeback were playfully exuberant.  Kiko had to show Ziggy how fast he can run, stop and turn, repeatedly.  The temperature was in the low 20s, and the snow was the light, powdery kind that doesn’t clump and irritate furry paws.  Both dogs looked festive in their wispy Santa snow beards. 

Because of this morning’s extensive traffic problems, the kids can probably rest assured that the next time snow is forecasted in our area, it will come with a school closing.  My daughter, no doubt, is betting on it.