December 1st

Snowdrop had said to me -- my teacher told me that winter starts in December so Saturday is the first day of winter! The little one is, of course, hoping for snow. But if we had some remaining patches in the morning (on my walk from the barn)...





... they were certainly washed away by midday. It rained today. And rained. And rained.

After working for most of the night, Ed slept in. A good day for it! Breakfast is very late.





Then it's back to bed for him.

The upside of having him upstairs while I do stuff downstairs is that I can play music. Holiday stuff. It's December after all! It's not that he would ever protest if I played it at other times, but I know that he prefers quiet. Today, I am sending sweet, faint little melodies up to the bedroom. Christmas lullabies.



In the late afternoon I have one small task and one large but lovely assignment.

The small task is to search for a puffer jacket. I had bought the one I wear on a daily basis 13 years ago and the stitching is starting to fail. I leave a trail of feathers wherever I go. I want one that will last me at least a dozen years going forward. I google "best puffer jacket." I read tons of reviews. I buy one on line. When I open the package, I find something so thin, so so lightweight, that I feel I am holding a jacket for a cool summer evening. I will send it back.

And so I go to our old reliable REI (sporting goods) store, where there are real people, ready to sell me real jackets. I tell the sales person -- I bought one on line, here, this one! But it's so thin! Would you believe that it got good rating for warmth? I need something that will do the job for just below freezing temps. Like the one I'm wearing, only not with holes and feathers floating every which way.

She looks at me, appears to do a mental calculation of my age, then tactfully responds -- we do in fact sell those thicker ones. People sometimes like the retro look...
Retro look? I should think that what I have is simply warmer.
No, just bulkier. We've moved away from that...


When I was significantly younger, I used to look at seniors in their quaintly dated apparel and wonder -- at what point do you stop noticing that you are no longer fashionable? I know the answer now -- some time way before 65.


My large and lovely assignment for today? It's to go over to the young family's house and help decorate their big tree.

Two things again highlight for me the passage of time: first -- it's the growing simplicity of the task before us. I wonder if we even pay attention to the fact how, incrementally, so many tough chores have been made easier... Take the lights: ages ago, we put things on the tree that threatened to burn the house down. Indeed, they probably did burn many a house down.

Along came electric lights. They were nice and hot, though at least we were done with the open flames. But the tree -- oh, how quickly it would dry from the heat of those lamps! (Don't keep the lights burning! Just one hour tonight, then turn them off! The tree will be a total stick before Christmas!)

Then came the LEDs. Cold. And in the last year -- cheap and bright. And unbreakable. No more shattered glass bulbs. No more rules about when to keep them burning. String them around -- you're done.


The second realization that time indeed is pushing us forward (so often in the best of ways) came when it was time to actually decorate the tree.

Back in the days when my girls were little, I loved the tree trimming evening. Christmas was of course the piece de resistance, but tree trimming had a quiet beauty to it that to me was just sublime. I'd bring out tree trimming snacks. The record player would work through a stack of Christmas vinyls, then in later years -- CDs (such progress! so much easier!), boxes of familiar ornaments would come out... it was all so very special. My daughters grew to love it as well and now comes the next generation, embracing this day as if it were the most glorious of them all. Here are just a few  photos from tonight. At the beginning, Sparrow is still napping. Toward the end, he is with us.


(Snacks are out: cheeses, prosciutto, gingerbread. Popcorn. Cider simmering, with spices. Sparkling wine for those who love sparkling wine.)






(Snowdrop comes up, sees the tree, runs for the two new ornaments that always begin the trimming. She is so fast, that I miss her first placement. I catch this second one.)











(A stool helps her reach the higher places...)






(Taking a pause: she is coming off of two play dates today. Plus, she is anxious to put the ribbon on top. Lucas, the cat, rests as well, for no good reason.)






Tree done.






Happy, happy girl!






(Sparrow is up!)


 



(How about a Christmas story?)






A couple of slices of pizza later, we're done.


Back at the farmhouse now. I hear hail on the rooftop. I hear the winds. But, inside, we're snug, happy, grateful.

Friday

Today's weather reminds me a bit of December in central Europe. Cold. No Arctic blast, but just at freezing. Gray. Damp. Cold.

That's okay. I have a morning of appointments, groceries and chores. Out and about. Heater's working in the car. The outside world is just that what I see through the windshield.

Well, and when I go out to feed the animals. (Pepper, on one foot, to avoid the snow)






When I finally see my doc, we talk about strategies for shaking a cough that appears to be nothing more than a terrible hangover from a bug long gone. She suggests a medicine that she is sure will help.
There is a problem with it -- she tells me.
Oh? What? (I'm thinking I'm in no mood for a rerun of GI issues.)
It makes some people grumpy.
Seriously? A cough medicine that makes you grumpy?

Now there's a dilemma! To cough, or to snarl at my beloveds? Eh, I can control the grumps... Can't I?

Breakfast, before the grumpy medicine.






Indeed, it's not hard to stay in a stellar mood when you pick up your granddaughter at school and then, along with her mom, you go to the University Forestry Department to pick up the big Christmas tree for their house.






We ask Snowdrop which tree she likes. In the past, this was a silly game. You ask which one, the kid points to some tree, you say"great!" and take the one you really like. But this year, Snowdrop gets really stuck on her choice.






I suggest another one, just a tad bigger, fuller. Her mom looks at me -- why don't we just get the one she really likes?





Sometimes your kids can show you the forest, even as you're too caught up in the search for a perfect tree...


Our next stop is at Clasen's Bakery. For the chocolate covered gingerbread cookies. For the gingerbread house to admire.






These holiday traditions have been with us for decades. We stock up on the cookies!

At their home, Sparrow is just waking up from a nap. Since both kids are full of playfulness, we decide it's a good time to try to get a holiday photo out of them.  I mean, the big tree will go up tomorrow, but the little tree in the living room is plenty nice. And the kids are just so disarming...

I'll post several photos -- none of which are in in the final run (I'll save that one for the young family's use), but all of which I love anyway. Because with those two grands, you just can't lose!
























Evening. Still cold. Still cloudy. Still lovely. Am I grumpy? You could ask Ed, but I doubt he'd have noticed. We're snuggled on the farmhouse couch eating popcorn and watching a movie. And I'm coughing a lot less. And that's such a good thing!

Thursday

Things are getting nicely dicey around here (time wise). I know that for some people, December is just too long. For those who can't take yet another go around of Ella singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas and for whom In the Bleak Winter (one of my favorites!) perfectly describes the mood of this month, the end of the holiday season cannot come soon enough.

But that's not me. In my view, the month that is interminably long is February. The calendar gods were clever to give it only 28.25 days. We'd go completely nuts if it were any longer than that.

December, on the other hand, is too short.

You might be itching to remind me that we are not yet in December. True. But the 3.5 weeks before Christmas are so short that I try to off load some tasks onto the end of November. And still, Deember is like an accelerated Mannheim Steamroller rendition of Deck the Halls.

I have Bon Appetit (the magazine, holiday edition) lying suggestively on the counter. I wont get to it. Or if I do, it will be with a wistful thought that I really should play around with some of the new recipes. Some year soon.

For now, I focus on what I need to do this week to meet the demands of next week. I'll be traveling then and since my trip is a short one, the more I do now, the less time I waste in the course of my days away.

But wait: I have to note the essentials! For example, overnight, we got a light coating of snow!






The cheepers thought it was too much. Note how they band together in two groups of three. They young girls...






... and the women of maturity!






And breakfast...






In the afternoon, a bouncy, happy Snowdrop comes over. She goes straight to my stack of holiday wrapping paper.






She has the idea that we should wrap things. From her, from me, to her babies, to her mommy, to her older doll. With love.






It's a sign that I will do anything for my kids. Even wrap (unnecessarily) a handful of (small) presents. Snowdrop is thrilled with her additions to the loot under the tree. Though she tells me -- gaga, I will need new mittens.
Why?
I gave my old ones to my Rosie (the rag doll).


Time for a book break.






To get reacquainted with the handful of ornaments...






To look outside...






To play with the characters.






And to greet Sparrow, who comes to pick her up.







Evening. Cook dinner, tidy up, sit back. Just for a few minutes. There's so much to do!

Wednesday

The Many Positions of Sparrow

As you may recall, my nearly six month old grandson spends Wednesday mornings here, at the farmhouse. Today I told myself that he deserves his moment by the farmhouse Christmas tree! But how to photograph this? I mean, he can sort of sit. Helped if propped up a bit. But it's no guarantee!

As I think about how to do this, it strikes me what a delightfully challenging time this is in an infant's first year! It's not all about lying down anymore, but nor has he moved into complete independence yet. And so you will see from this morning the many ways in which Sparrow is experimenting with positioning himself in this world.


The arrival of the winter bunny...






My first attempt at sitting Sparrow by the tree... flopped.






How about if you lean forward, Sparrow?






Or, sit you up in a chair? Well, you can't see the tree from here...






On your tummy then. Not bad!






Let's have a better look at Sparrow!






Alright. Breakfast time.
Ed, can you stand him on the table?
How do I do that?
Just stand him on the table!






It's not easy. He slides!






We eat. Well, some of us eat.






And now he is upright, stable, and happy about it. He looks like he's jogging. He will be. Soon enough.






The Dancing Christmas Snowdrop

Can you teach patience? Maybe not, but you can certainly introduce the idea of it at an early age.

When Snowdrop comes to the farmhouse after school, she immediately spots the one present under the tree. Wrapped and ready for Christmas. "To Snowdrop," it reads.

Can I open it?
Not until Christmas.
Look! There are penguins on the paper! Does Santa know about penguins?






There is no good way to answer that question, so I offer her a piece of pineapple instead.






But you can't hide things from Ms Beady Eyes. Soon after, she finds the roll of paper I used to wrap her gift.
Gaga! This was your paper!

One more bit of the Christmas puzzle that she has now to mull over.


We don't have a great amount of time to play. It's dance class day.

Do we have time to read a book?
Just one!






Ready?






I give myself time to get her there on schedule, but once again there is an issue on the highway and once again we are a few minutes late. No matter. Snowdrop jumps right in without pause or hesitation.






The story for the day is Lion King.






She makes a fine roaring cub.






... who can jump hoops to get, well, wherever she needs to go.






I stand back and exhale. My grandkids are all well and growing in leaps and bounds. The lights are twinkling. Our homes are warm.

How good is that!