The weather continues to define each day. As expected, freezing rain overnight. The porch roof is finally off limits. Neither Ed or I are that insane. (Though we did do a google search to see what they use to de-ice planes... Verdict? too toxic!)
The next drama is to come on Sunday (heavy snow) and then on Monday (single digit highs).
December is such an interesting month.
And such a beautiful month! A musical month. My playlist has five hours of favorite Christmas music and I judge it to be incomplete. However did it come to pass that I took on this holiday and considered it my own? The heathen who loves Christmas!
Understandable, no? When I was living in New York, everyone I knew was Christmas-happy. The family I au-paired for was Jewish, but they had a tree and gave Christmas gifts. So, too, Ed's family. Well, obviously! If I could love Bach, if my college professor, Prof. Sachs, could show me the relevance of St. Matthew's Passion to everyone's life, doesn't it follow that all tradition, and especially all musical tradition should command the same respect? In those days at least, Christmas was everyone's holiday.
That wonderful music -- repetitive, familiar, glues it together and I listen now to my playlist, jumping between Polish hymns and Ella Fitzgerald and Diana Krall and Clare College and Kings College and St John's College and if that's all too serious for you, I have also the Muppets -- ohhh, what's there not to love?
Ed goes upstairs to escape it all.
Scenes from the day:
Breakfast, almost ready!
Ice!
Christmas at the farmhouse.
The next drama is to come on Sunday (heavy snow) and then on Monday (single digit highs).
December is such an interesting month.
And such a beautiful month! A musical month. My playlist has five hours of favorite Christmas music and I judge it to be incomplete. However did it come to pass that I took on this holiday and considered it my own? The heathen who loves Christmas!
Understandable, no? When I was living in New York, everyone I knew was Christmas-happy. The family I au-paired for was Jewish, but they had a tree and gave Christmas gifts. So, too, Ed's family. Well, obviously! If I could love Bach, if my college professor, Prof. Sachs, could show me the relevance of St. Matthew's Passion to everyone's life, doesn't it follow that all tradition, and especially all musical tradition should command the same respect? In those days at least, Christmas was everyone's holiday.
That wonderful music -- repetitive, familiar, glues it together and I listen now to my playlist, jumping between Polish hymns and Ella Fitzgerald and Diana Krall and Clare College and Kings College and St John's College and if that's all too serious for you, I have also the Muppets -- ohhh, what's there not to love?
Ed goes upstairs to escape it all.
Scenes from the day:
Breakfast, almost ready!
Ice!
Christmas at the farmhouse.
