Monthly Archives: December 2021

About the In-Between Time

Posted on by
Photo by Moritz Knöringer on Unsplash

Anytime my weather app informs me of temperatures in the -40 degrees Celcius range, three things immediately come to mind: 1. Gross. 2 Why do we even live here? and 3. I ain’t going anywhere. Well, not if I can help it. With a car safely ensconced in the garage, I know it will probably start if it has to, unlike all the poor, angry vehicles hiding under their snow blankets like hibernating bears. They just want to be left alone until the spring.

Of course, not everyone has the luxury of time off in the in-between of Christmas and New Year’s. Work still happens – especially emergencies like busted water pipes and furnace breakdowns and cars that need to be boosted. But during the Christmas season – at least in non-Omicron variant times – we sometimes need to PARTY even if the temperature registers stupid.

When I was a kid, the in-between time stretched all the way to January 7 which was Ukrainian Christmas or maybe even the 14th, the Eastern calendar’s New Year’s Day equivalent. At least once a year, during that time, there was always a family party to go to. Most often, I remember it at my grandparents’ house – my Baba and Gigi’s. For most of the year they lived in a few rooms in what was the old post office in Derwent, but for family get-togethers we overflowed into the large back room lined with couches and chairs. But the family get-together also cirulated from year to year: I remember at least one party at the homes of each of my mom’s five sisters and one brother.

My mom and my aunties all potlucked a turkey roaster full of something – cabbage rolls, meatballs, cheese stuffed crepes – and loaded it onto the table in the middle of all the sofas and chairs. Us kids always went last but we never minded because once we had our plates full of our favorites, we got to sit around the kids table and talk turkey, away from the pesky adults. It was a chance to compare what we got for Christmas and show off new Christmas clothing but most of all, we just loved to hang out together, laughing and sharing stories. After dessert, which was left out for the rest of the night – score! – we found every house’s hiding spots and board games, we practiced swear words with each other and tried each other’s new jewelry and Bonnie Bell Lip Smackers.

I don’t remember how cold it was outside because we were inside – safe, warm, very full and happy. I do remember at the end of one of those nights exiting the house into a blizzard and my Uncle John blazing the trail for us in his four-wheel drive Bronco. The Chevy Impala would never have made it otherwise. It was probably pretty nerve wracking for Dad the driver and Mom the worrier, but I was probably asleep in the back seat, oblivious until someone carried me into the house and dumped me in my bed. What a life!

The in-between is a time to stay home if you can or to go if you must and hopefully the weather won’t get you down either way. Let your memories warm you. And may you make new ones that are just as good or better to keep going you all the new year.

About What’s Good

Posted on by
Photo by Valentin Petkov on Unsplash

Yesterday I had a good 3-hour pre-Christmas phonecall with one of my dearest friends. She’s the kind of friend where we don’t need to talk every day or every week or even every month, but when we do, the three hours feels like ten minutes. I count it a good good blessing to have friends like that.

Three hours on the phone does give you a lot of time to discuss what’s new and also, as good friends will do, rehash what is old. Especially since we are getting old or – at least – old-er. We talked about how we are celebrating our respective Christmases – what’s the same and what’s different from the usual: her mom is in Mexico, mine is in heaven. Her grandchildren will be with her ex-son-in-law, I haven’t got any (yet). We both get to spend most of it with our best friends (our husbands), but there are other things that are different because the one thing you can count on is change.

And then, maybe around hour two, when we had pretty much solved the problems of the world – according to us – she quoted something she heard from Oprah that had stuck with her, something like: enjoy what’s good while it lasts, because it won’t last forever. And – know that what’s bad also won’t last forever.

It’s the kind of wisdom that at first blush, sounds icky, like a parent admonishing a child: Be THANKFUL, dammit! But then, the wise-ness seeps in, especially if you’re not a toddler or a teenager, because growing older teaches us the hard and the good way that this piece of advice is TRUE.

Do I wish that my mom, gone these seven years now, was here so we could enjoy another one of her special Christmas Eves? Or that, for heaven’s sake, we could go back to proceeding as normal without masks and admonitions, that Covid and all its iterations would just skedaddle already? Or even that it might warm up to oh – minus 5? – so that my front door would shut properly again and my kids don’t have to worry about their cars starting?

Well, sure. But in the grand scheme of things, I wouldn’t know such goodness if I hadn’t already witnessed it for myself, in all its smallness and bigness.

Here’s wishing that your ten minutes of goodness this Christmas feels like three hours – and even more.

About Not Giving Christmas Presents

Posted on by
Photo by JESHOOTS.COM on Unsplash

Sitting in a hair salon yesterday, I overheard a conversation from the next chair. The patron was telling his stylist that he and his wife don’t exchange gifts anymore at Christmas – that they just didn’t see the point of it. He said he didn’t like the shopping and, I suspect, the subsequent wrapping and quite possibly, the not-knowing if the gift will be “a good one” or “a bad one”. This was an agreement that was made amicably between the both of them.

He said that instead they chose to go somewhere or do something together, no wrapping necessary, just packing. And he also said his Christmas lights had been up and on since the warm snap in early November. So, not bah, humbug at all. Obviously, he and his wife were keeping Christmas in their own way.

About the gift-giving, the stylist said that she thought that Christmas presents were only fun for little kids, anyways. Hmm, I wondered: What about all those people who still are children in their hearts? What if your loved one really does want the flourish of paper and bows and maybe a new little thing that would not show up any other time of year?

And what about the givers? What if you really love to give other people presents? In the minimalist/environmentalist atmosphere we live in, is this wrong?

One of my first favorite stories about Christmas was O. Henry’s The Gift of the Magi. It’s an old enough tale that I can spoil it: in the story, a newlywed couple, desperately in love, finds themselves destitute at Christmas. The husband decides to sell his prized heirloom watch in order to buy some beautiful combs for his bride’s long lovely tresses. The wife cuts said long tresses, sells them and buys the husband a chain for his watch. It’s Christmas giving at its sacrificial best.

Of course, as a young girl I always thought that the wife got the better gift – after all, her hair would grow back and she could use the combs. But the story wasn’t really about the hair, the combs, the watch or the chain. It was about the giving something away that mattered to you so that you could make someone else happy. Even if the gift made no sense in the end, it really was the thought that counted.

But thoughts are hard to wrap. Sometimes they need to be conveyed in gift bags and boxes – or sometimes, suitcases. Gifts don’t need to be extravagant, and the suitcase doesn’t have to travel far either, to mark the occasion, to show someone else that you love them – with a bow on top.

About Dressing for the Occasion

Posted on by
It’s nice, but is it warm? [Photo by Vladimir Yelizarov on Unsplash]

I don’t know what the kids are doing these days, but when I was going to school, dressing for winter wasn’t about being warm. It was totally about being cool.

For some reason, the wearing of winter coats, hats and – heaven forbid! – BOOTS was absolute malarkey when I was a teenager. Of course, my mother in her eminent sense, never let me leave the house without looking like I was warm enough to stand at the end of the driveway in freezing weather to wait for the school bus. But that didn’t mean I didn’t doff my toque as soon as the bus came into sight. I mean, who wants to spend a single minute in junior high with hat hair? Not Thirteen-Year-Old Me!

The coolest kids (and some of the cutest – I’m not saying the smartest) managed to look like they weren’t freezing their arses off while still wearing their summer jean jackets and hightop runners, hands shoved down into their jeans pockets like they were auditioning for an S. E. Hinton movie. I don’t think I ever managed to achieved Total Cool Status – I wore a scarf and mitts everyday – but I do remember sneaking out of the house in sneakers, not boots. And winding up with wet socks and cold feet – how dumb is that?

I’m a lot older now and – it goes without saying – MUCH COOLER. Or is it warmer? I start wearing my toque in early fall and my boots with the first snowflake. I have even been known to turn on the seat heater in my car on a chilly day in summer because I am OVER with being cold. I do think dressing for the weather isn’t such a faux pas anymore. Then again, I don’t really know what’s in style anymore. It’s too hard to keep up with the Jones, or the teenagers, or whoever rules the fashion roost.

In anticipation of the winter season, my personal shopper (that would be my husband, Rick) picked out a SUPER WARM, EXTRA LONG new coat for me. I have never had such a warm coat before and apparently being warm means spending a little bit of money – this coat is what they call an “investment purchase”. When the temperature dipped recently, I wore it for the first time and realized that it not only takes a bit of money to stay warm, but also time. It took me about five minutes to zip myself in! But when it was on, I was warm as toast. Hot toast, fresh out of the toaster, that is.

Of course, it matters to me that my new coat looks nice as well – I did try on a few the day that I bought it, until we found “The One”. But if it’s minus 20 and I’m feeling toasty, I completely forget what I look like anyways. But I do know that this coat would look ridiculous with running shoes. And that’s a good thing.

About Putting up the Christmas Tree

Posted on by
Photo by lasse bergqvist on Unsplash

Although I would probably never entertain not having a Christmas tree as part of my December seasonal decor, the chore of putting it up every year is something I do not get excited about. However, like a good workout or sometimes church, I may not be anxious to do it but am usually happy once it’s done.

I do love a Christmas tree, even those of the Charlie Brown genre, but I really lollygag at putting it up. Perhaps it’s the residual argument memories about getting the lights just right or dealing with burnt out bulbs or (yikes!) serial string lights. But that problem has been solved – we now have a pre-lit artificial tree. Yes, we did the live tree thing for awhile. The smell is nice – well until your olfactory senses get used to it and you just don’t notice it anymore. A trip to a flower shop in December or a conifer-scented candle work just as well to satisfy that pine-y craving.

And then there’s the whole watering-the-tree-while-lying-on-your-stomach-and-getting-water-everywhere-but-in-the-tree-stand thing. I’m loathe to buy one of those new-fangled waterers that eliminate such a problem because it’s just something else I have to store unused for eleven months. Now, there’s no buying-and-hauling of said tree in 20 below weather (because it’s always 20 below when we go to acquire a real tree) and the subsequent 2-hour vacuuming session to clean out my car of tree debris. The car does smell nice afterward, but like the conifer-candle, an old-fashioned Little Tree air freshener does the trick without clogging up your vacuum hose.

For our first Christmas together, Rick and I did have a real tree. We were on a pretty tight budget but had decided to squander $20 on a cut tree from Superstore. We brought it home to our apartment – blissfully unaware that real trees were probably against the rules, a fire hazard – and unwrapped it to find out a quarter of our tree was missing. We should have only paid $15. No matter, we turned that part to the wall and decorated the heck out of “the good side”. And then we left for two weeks. When we returned – now wised up to the fact that the tree was in fact verboten – we had to adios that tree without anyone noticing. Rick quickly hauled the tree down the long hallway to the back of the building while I followed with the vacuum to eliminate the tell-tale trail.

It’s a fun memory, along with the those of unpacking decorations one by one and handing them to the boys to hang up – and then later rearranging them – on the many trees we’ve had over the years. One year – again on a tight budget – our second-hand artificial tree simply did not work anymore and so we made do with a tiny clothes-hanger-and-tinsel tree. Santa still came. And the decorations themselves – a pineapple from Hawaii, a covered bridge from Vermont, the clothespin soldiers the boys made – they evoke their own stories.

I’m not sure if I’ll ever get past procrastinating at putting up the tree. But it’s non-negotiable, so it will get done. And, once up, it will be enjoyed.