December decompress

Wait, what just happened here?? Falshing images of the month gone by: a birthday, Nutcrackers, performances. Lists, long lists -- things to get, to do, to make, to cook. To wrap! Tree's up! Clasen's Bakery trips. Madison Sourdough Bakery trips. Batch Bakery trips. A playlist of 168 holiday songs, replayed many times. Eve, already?? The first of three family dinners to cook! Day, so soon?? Gift exchange, roasted bird in the oven. Buche de Noel! Day number two, with the arriving Chicago group! Gifts, food at a long table. Then came a movie and pizza at flashy Lucille's. And of course brunch on Saturday. Followed by the Estonian dinner. And a partridge in a pear tree! All in the space of less than a month. However did we, did I manage to do it all? How perfectly wonderful to have had, for the most part, good health throughout, so that we could group and regroup. And play and eat and talk. Christmas is the time of hanging out together. And we did. Lots. And now I'm reeling with it all, at the same time that I begin to unwind. Not totally -- I have a NY Eve dinner to prepare and, in the same week, another birthday dinner to prepare, and a week later, another birthday to travel to. But the heady rush of holiday happenings is behind me.

Typically, I want to take down the tree soon after. I have never had it up into the New Year. But this year I hesitate. It's still fresh! I still catch a whiff of it as I walk up the stairs in the evening. It still delights me every time I look up. So, not today. Maybe tomorrow, maybe not.

It's a mildly cold day. No sunshine. 

Breakfast of leftovers. Ed joins me, but then a buyer shows up to purchase his old old truck (the 1992 pickup that I grew to dislike so much) and so he is out to conduct that transaction. Dance takes his place.

He comes back somewhat depleted (despite the fact that he got his asking price for it -- $1000). I ask him -- are you sad to see it go??

I guess I am. It was a nice truck. Quick, do me a favor before he drives off with it! Through the window, take a picture!

(It looks much better in pictures than in real life!)

Whaaaat? A sentimental side to Ed?  My love, you dont even hang onto photos of me! You want a commemorative photo of your old pickup?? 

I just wanted you to take it. We don't need to do anything with it.

Oh, the sentimentality of older age! It even hits a guy like Ed!

We take a short walk in our park. Not because either of us wants to, but because we know what season we're dealing with here. Next week may be bitter cold. Seize the milder moment to be outside!

The lake has heaved back down to a fragile ice cover and there are no fisher people on it today. We spot one sole person trapsing all around what appears to be a half-sunken,  overturned ice hut.

We ask the ranger (who just happens to be nearby) if that really is a half sunken house.

Yep. They have thirty days to remove it or else they get fined.

But how can they do that? The ice is not safe now, and when it freezes over, it'll be impossible to extricate anything from it.

These guys really push the limit out on the ice. He should have known better. We know him -- he's been fishing for a long time. 

But what if the ice cracks and he falls in?

It's not too deep down there. Maybe up to his chest.

He's not getting a lot of sympathy from the park rangers, that's for sure!

 

In the late afternoon, I go to my daughter's house to help take down their tree. She hates that project so much that it stirs up my empathy juices and I'm always there to wrap tiny ornaments (all three kids take down the ornaments and hand them to me), then help sweep up the mess that is left behind, as they drag the tree to the curb.

Well done, team! 

I linger for just a while. My daughter tells me what I already know -- this really has been our finest Christmas ever. Is it that we're all maturing into the love of all that this holiday gives us? Or that the kids are nearly all at the age when Christmas delights them in the best of ways? Hard to say. Maybe it's that the stars were aligned...

I drive home smiling. 

And yes, Ed and I search once again for that movie that will transport us to some new level of wonderfulness (yesterday's was about an escape from the Soviet Gulag. Now how delightful was that going to be?!). I'll let you know tomorrow if we landed a good one. I doubt it and of course, it doesn't matter one bit.

 (farmhouse tree: still up!)

 

with love...