Driving with the radio on, tuned to a station that plays holiday music. Yes, I'm one of those who really enjoys the Christmas season and all its excesses, including excessive repetition of holiday songs. Last evening we had Clare College and Kings College Carols playing in the background. Those soothing melodies have been with me since I discovered them when I was half the age of my daughters. Back then, finding a place that sold albums from all the Cambridge University choirs was hard. But I persevered and my daughters grew up with a season full of those sweet songs of Christmas.
I always loved the stuff. As a kid, I'd adored Alvin and the Chipmunks singing Christmas songs. And the Polish boys choir doing their holiday repertoire. In recent decades, I grew especially fond of jazzy Christmas stuff. Oscar Peterson, Ella Fitzgerald -- and beyond. But hey, I'm good for the bouncy stuff on the radio too! I'm not fussy. The fact is, December can seem very bleak without the holiday colors. I love opening up to all of it, even if Christmas is an adopted holiday for me, as my parents weren't especially Christmas-inclined. Possibly the only two Poles on the planet who did not fuss over Christmas Eve. (Even if you weren't religious, you put on a proper feast then. It was and is ingrained into your Polish soul!)
And yes, it is a bleak day otherwise. Freezing, with a high today of 21F (-6C).
The chickens are hiding once again. The cold, the hawks, the lack of greenery -- it's all rather miserable for them.
But I have a chicken treat for them! Yesterday, I had to make two batches of cranberry corn muffins. Why? Because when the timer pinged for the first dozen, I thought -- ah! Muffins are done. And then continued doing some other prep, forgetting to take those darn things out of the oven. Until much, much later. Here's an interesting fact: chickens love over-baked corn muffins. A mistake may confer unexpected benefits to some.
And here's where I can bring in some real color for you: my Ocean friend who, along with her daughter run a very beautiful holiday-themed business (32 Degrees North), once again sent me a gift of old-world Advent calendars for the kids.
All the kids love these -- it's part of December magic to discover a sweet image for the day. Unpacking those calendars was a real pick-me-up to the morning. Breakfast, amid holiday pictures.
Immediately after, I head out.
For I don't know how many decades now, it has been standard fare to go tree hunting on the day after Thanksgiving. Initially, it was just to help my daughter along with her holiday tree shopping. But despite the fact that I had a tiny bit of resistance on this from Ed, I did finally break down and buy a wee tree for our home as well. That wee tree grew a little over time, and since a couple of years ago, I have a regular old six footer in the farmhouse.
Last year, we all went tree shopping at a local tree farm. Snowdrop really wanted to repeat that excursion but the weather today is just so beastly cold! And, too, that place is insanely popular on the day after Thanksgiving. It feels like an assembly line operation: they guide you to a parking spot, then to trees, then to a packed gift shop, then to the pick-up point. Like herded sheep, from one field to the next. The grownups balked at the idea of doing that today and finally the little girl quit her campaign to get us out to the tree farm. She's an agreeable sort. Here we are, at the far easier shopping venue -- our local nursery, searching for the perfect tree for the young family (they go for the big fat ones).
Finally! Found one! That fat one.
Inside, they pick up a few other odds and ends and, too, the kids allow themselves to be set up for a Christmas photo. I take many, I'll post one I know they wont use for their card, but still, it's a sweet one.
I have always thought that we are a nation inclined to smile for photos. Poles, for example, rarely do that. Sure, they laugh like the rest of us, but those photo grins? Nope. Not for them. In case you think that the more natural expressions are in some way preferable, let me put in a plug for the photo smile: I recently listened to a story detailing studies that have demonstrated that even fake smiles work to stir up your happy juices. In other words, a facial expression can influence your emotions in a good way. Oh yeah!
From Bruce's (where we get their tree), it's just a hop skip over to Clasen's Bakery, where everyone stocks up on more chocolate covered gingerbread cookies (and other delights).
I wave good bye to them then and return to Bruce's on my own to select a farmhouse tree for this year. I don't intend to put it up yet. Maybe Sunday evening, maybe Monday. But back at the farmhouse, Ed is scratching his head over my plan to put it in the mud room for the time being.
Don't you want to keep it in water?
Fine, I'll put it in a bucket...
But then why not just put it up inside in the regular old tree stand?
So we do that.
To be decorated at a later date. When the new lights arrive because of course, half of last year's chain is broken, infuriating the both of us at the waste. (It's impossible to fix these defects in Christmas lights. Believe me, Ed has tried.)
In the evening, my youngest girl and her family drive into town. We all meet up for dinner at Craftsman Table and Tap.
(here come the two Chicago girls!)
Ah, but it's great to have them all here, together! Total bliss for me. A proper Thanksgiving! Or -- entry into the Christmas season! Or both.
(happy cousins)
with so much love....
