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Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts

Thursday, December 17, 2015

Christmas Past

The  red trucks drove down the country road followed by the ambulance and police cruisers.  Strangely silent. No  flashing lights. No sirens. Hardly a hint of haste. Only headlights that were needed  were visible in the fast approaching dimness of a mid winter cloudy afternoon.

 They were the last of the vehicles that trailed behind the dark coloured hearse which travelled a bit faster and with more urgency .

The country neighbours watched from their porch balcony doors commenting quietly as they texted their family members and other neighbours to report on the latest happenings 'down the road'.

*********************************************************************************

It had been a dreary day all round.  Hopefully the plough would be down the road in a couple of days.  Things always seemed to take so long over the holidays.  Although she really had no real need to have the road ploughed.  Everything she needed was right in the house.  The deep freeze was well stocked with meat and vegetables.  The canned goods pantry was almost filled to overflowing.  The wood bin was full with dry seasoned poplar.  Poplar that had been seasoned two years which in fact made it a joy to start with just a few coals at the bottom of the grate; that could throw heat right to the top of the attic in 15 minutes if one wanted to warm up the mouse nests that were built along side the brick chimney.


The last few days had been very quiet in the small  semi isolated farm house.  Being 2 miles off the main highway and the last house on the grid made passing traffic very rare and actually quite startling when one saw the rare lights from a hunter's truck or the sound of an ATV rambling over cultivated fields.

She looked out across the shrouded field engulfed in the dark of an early winter's evening and remembered the time he had gone into town on such a night and she had been left behind.  That had been the night that she had seen lights whirring around and around the  same stubble field and had become quite alarmed not knowing what exactly the lights meant; not knowing about snowmobiles and where the far roads led.  A time long passed .  An occurrence never again repeated.

Walking back through the kitchen, she examined once again the cleared cupboard surface, glanced up at the sole kitchen light in the middle of the ceiling before she flipped the switch creating yet another dark space so seemingly early in the day.

Guided by the faint light from her bedroom she made her way mainly by feel towards the bathroom where she prepared for bed.  All was quiet.  The television had been shut off early in the afternoon.  No radio sounds with twinkling carols and sweet yarns of some stranger's sticky Christmas memory intruding this evening.   Just quiet.  Just the silence.  Just the memories.

The sheets in the bed were cool and she wiggled her legs and toes to bring warmth.  Then she remembered that she had not put wood in the stove.

Crawling out of bed with a soft groan, turning on the harsh light in the hallway she made her way back to the living part of the dark house. With the help of the dim light in the basement stairwell she found her way down to the wood stove.   She opened the metal lid and saw that there was hardly even the slightest glow of embers at the bottom.  Taking the metal poker she stirred the ashes hoping to revive the doleful gloomy sparks into something to  help contribute to the starting of a fire.  Placing the split poplar wood layer upon layer over the embers she reached down and opened the door at the bottom of the stove wide open to allow the air to pull a draft through the meagre sparks in order to start a real fire faster.. 

She left the door open and went back upstairs.   She would return later to close the door when she heard the whooshing of the air traveling up the chimney, part of which was situated right in her bedroom.

Cuddling down in a ball she lay there in her bed listening for the chimney sounds. She could hear the wind coursing through the evergreens just outside her window.    She thought of other Christmas Eves.  Christmas Eves of huge meals in the kitchen and candle light shimmering from garlands hanging from the ceiling.  Christmas Eves of games and 'little' presents. Excitement and picture taking under the tree. The  hanging of stockings , cheese balls, and punch bowls.  She closed her eyes and thought of the times of Santa and the  soft tip toeing as presents were put under the tree.  

She could hear something.  A horn? An alarm?  Surely not time to get up yet. No alarm was set. Probably just a dream.  Ignore it.  Probably some snowmobilers roaring around on Christmas Eve.


 

Sunday, December 22, 2013

A Christmas Letter from an Eight Year Old Penny.

Dear Doreen,

How are you? I am fine.

The Christmas Concert has been performed.  I guess we did okay after all those weeks of practicing, practicing, practicing--not only lines for recitations and song singing  but also LINING UP. 
I really can't see the purpose  or value in having to line up 25 Grade 3ers according to height --much less  having to practice to do that over and over again,  when in fact from the time we first started to practice until the actual performance night, some of us had grown and the whole order had to be changed at least 3 times before the final night anyways.  


Another thing I learned about Christmas Concert practice is that you find out that that sweet and most beautiful soft spoken teacher you have all during the rest of the year can actually use a voice that sounds a lot like MOM when she finds that you have bitten your sister, locked the cat into the back of the kitchen cupboard for 12 hours, or  used her scissors to create an alternate  hair fashion  for your little brother.

I think one of the strangest things that happened lately is that Mom came home from shopping and instead of unloading groceries  or cleaning products on the kitchen cupboard, she ran straight into her bedroom and rattled stuff around  and then came out with empty bags in hand with a stern and meaningful look on her face warning us not to go into her clothes closet for ANY reason whatsoever..even if there is a fire.   That just seems weird to me --as if we kids ever make it a habit of hanging around in her bedroom closet  just  for Fun and Games (except  for that time when cousin James came to babysit us and he put on that fashion show  with Mom's clothes and makeup on..but I don't think she even knows about THAT) .

 It's not as if there were any video games in there or toys to play with or candies to munch on--well not as least as far as I know anyways.

Christmas is just a little weird though isn't it?  Everyone gets so excited about cooking, baking fancy cookies (just what is with that black stuff that looks just LIKE chocolate syrup but isn't-- that they use to make cookies that look LIKE little chocolate men but aren't?).  

 I had to take some fresh baked buns to the 90 year old bachelor down our street the other day because it was Christmas!  What is it about Christmas that demands that stuff be done like that?  Kindness is what Mom calls it..but as those Buns of Kindness  probably only last I bet only about 2 hours ,  it makes me wonder what happens to that guy from now until next Christmas?

I think I have to go now.  Mom went out shopping again and I see she left her clothes closet door wide open this time ---

Merry Christmas! Happy 1961!

Your friend,

Penny



Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Sneaky Season

'Tis the Season of merry making, baking, and thoughts of gift getting and buying.

'Tis also the Season of Sneakiness.

Yes, sneakiness is an inherent part of this celebration demanding every bit as much skill and agility as special  CSIS or CIA agents.  What other time of year  do so many have so many intentional secrets either in thought or deed? 

 What other time of year do husbands, wives, and children purposely hide their purchases unless they are part of the drug cartel or are in some sleazy affair either for love, money, or power?

 The power of observation in the mass population has been  elevated through intense exercise for at least the last six weeks. People around the world have being carefully observing, following, watching and surreptitiously quizzing  their loved ones to get a sense of the  perfect gift to acquire.  People have planned these Christmas purchases and ultimate surprise delivery with as much care as any military operation by having the timing  of the purchase arranged just right, as well as concealing said purchase, covered by then in shiny paper, ribbons, and  obligatory tinsel until the perfect  time of reveal somewhere between 6 pm  December 24 and 8 am December 25. 

 Things have been  and will be covered, stuffed  and jammed into and underneath places that never before have seen such articles.  Trunks of cars, backs of cupboards, under stairways, garage shelves, and under beds will all be precious unlikely storage areas for such things as watches, crystal, books, jewelry, chocolates, lingerie, furs, and even kittens.  

 Ultimately, after all this planning one also has to somehow hide the financial cost from the end of the month bank statement.

Yes , sneakiness is part of the season without a doubt.

My dad had a sense of this sneakiness when he had an especially wanted living room chair delivered on  Christmas Eve by the local McLeod's furniture dealer while our family was out visiting.  He also exercised this same skill when he brought in a huge and very heavy box into the house about a week before Christmas to have us, his two eldest daughters, wrap for our Mom in front of our Mom.  Christmas Day proved that it was a large rock sitting on top of a Smith Corona typewriter.

Granted it seems in some cases that being sneaky and smart are  neither kind or even in anyway connected when one considers the guy whose wife , after all the presents were opened and  there was nothing but paper under the tree, mischievously announced  with a gleam in her eye as she looked at her husband that there is another present to open.  As he sat looking blank and unknowing, the wife went into the bedroom closet and after hearing a gasp, he followed her to see her holding a note that said 'Thank you for the earrings, darling."  A bit of sneakiness gone awry as apparently earrings were found in the same said pocket a week prior.

This  sneakiness also was also explored in our  own household about 32 years ago this Christmas Season.  In the days of having to get a Complete Medical Examination performed before one could apply for a Marriage License, my soon to be husband had to go to his parents' house  and use their phone to make the  required  appointment.  As he didn't want prying questions as to why an otherwise healthy and strong young man would be going to the doctor, he fake limped on his motorcycle accident knee so no questions would be asked.  His concerned mother hovered over him for the next week suggesting pain killers and braces.  His  sore knee was  much talked about at the next  meeting of the Women's Institute  as a neighbour lady had actually seen him limping into the doctor's waiting room.  

  



There was even more talk about two weeks later when the Women's Institute next met in the New Year  about the confirmed bachelor who had somehow ran off with his sore knee and had gotten married over the Christmas Season.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Soon it will be Christmas...another year done...

Yes, as the song goes.... soon it will be Christmas...another year done.. 

Along with Christmas comes the inevitable Christmas Parties with their gaiety, fine food, fellowship and  legend making activities.

Who can't recall with some  passing delight if not actual devilish glee some revealing antic that happened at past Christmas Office Party? Ah yes, who does not know of  the mix of truth telling, truth inventing, and truth stretching that is given leave to be circulated all under the innocent guise of 'filling in' the worker who hadn't been able to attend the annual function of dysfunction and mayhem which accompanies most of these  celebrations  denoting the total ignorance of what the Season is truly all about? These truths that spread faster than the  artificial lighting that drapes over every eave, roof, and metal railing in the average North American household, that may or may not cause red faces, vivid day dreams, and domestic disputes for years to come.

These 'truths' embellished with details that are peppered with superiority, speculated  upon as to the inner motivations, combined with the blurred memory of the story teller contributes to the Office Consciousness that when tapped will provide many hours of biting, condemning, and snickering conversation in the lunch room for months until at least the  office Spring Bar-B-Q. 

Is it not a just a bit strange then that the very reason these 'parties' even exist at all, the very origin of the Greatest Party on Earth, the real Meaning of the Season , has nothing to do with buffet tables, open bars, bonuses, and collections for the boss's gift?  In fact, I suspect that very very few of Office Party attendees give very much thought to the actual reason for the season. 

 I suspect these social gatherings are more of an opportunity to see and be seen, an opportunity to schmooze with the upper echelon of the corporation, and often an unhappy opportunity based on lust and too much alcohol to test one's attractiveness by expressing one's previously and  the oh so wisely hidden desire for a romantic dalliance with a co-worker, their spouse or some combination thereof, however brief.

A few examples of character revealing Christmas Party antics...which are not exaggerated, contrived, or invented..well not a lot anyways.

Christmas Character Flaw Revealed #1

  How about those crocodile tears that flowed when the Boss thanked everyone for the World Vision Gifts bought for her in her name? Really...she didn't KNOW one could  do that? How can she be the age she is, with the money she has, and live in the world we live in  and NOT know of World Vision?

 Christmas Character Reveal #2

How about that worker and his wife who BRING  and pass around unasked for goodies to augment the Boss's office party?  

 Blatant trying to get in good with the boss attempt perhaps.  

Christmas Character Reveal #3

The person with the big official and professional type looking boots who flung their leg over the table while slogging back copious amounts of booze to the shocked dismay of the others at the table revealed more than her lack of manners.  It also revealed the lower standard of character traits that her particular profession has allowed into their ranks. 

Christmas Character Reveal #4

The Christmas group photo.  How could one miss the squeezing in of some office staff into the back row of male co workers?  One can only speculate on the 'why' of it all.

There are a million Christmas Parties going on in North American this season-- opportunities for millions more character revealing incidents.  

If you feel you would like to share your own or another's Character Reveal , please do so in the comment section to be enjoyed by the rest of us.



http://www.worldvision.org/


Visit the site to learn more about sponsoring a child or donating to a very worthy cause.



Thursday, December 27, 2012

'Tis the Season to think of the Reason.

Yeppers..presents are opened. Turkey is cooked. Candy is gone. Pudding has been downed.  Tree has lost its lustre. Carols have become monotonous.  Work is hearkening above the chorus of angels.  Bills are arriving as the guests are departing.

It's Over!

    or is it?

I don't think so TIM

 I think if one has really celebrated a true Christmas filled with Peace On Earth and Good  Will Towards Men showing kindness and forgiveness to all then I suspect that Christmas 2012 will never truly end.  I bet its effect will reverberate throughout the coming months even if not everyone understands  all the theological implications and possibilities.

The Miracle of Christmas that God sent His Son to live among us here on Earth is not the end of Christmas Miracles.

 I think Christmas Miracles still happen every year  even after 2000 plus years in the form of the amount of Forgiveness, Sacrifice for Others, and expressions of Love not only towards family , but also towards strangers that occurs for these few short weeks of the year.

 The effort to reconnect with one another through gift giving, traveling long (and short) distances to be with friends and family, along with  the expressions of Good Will through seasonal cards, letters, emails, and visits all prove to me that Christmas Miracles happen and continue to act as banners for the Reason for the Season.

There were many many people in many many lands affected by this year's Christmas.  Many people found it in their heart to reach out, to forgive, and to feel compassion for others that perhaps if it were not for the Season these relationships and opportunity for growth would not have occurred.

Tree drying up? Yep.
 Gifts all opened? Yep.
  Food all eaten? Yep

Christmas over?
            Nope..not by a long shot.

 
 

 

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Tinkle, tinkle.

There are a 1000 stories to be told in the Memory Called Christmas...and this is only one.

I had two younger siblings...10 months apart...a brother and a sister.  They were about 1 year old and almost 2 1/2 years  old--crawling--barely walking.  The  decorated  3' tree was set UP UP UP high on the lace covered sewing machine stand in the living room.   Presents wrapped, ribboned and labelled were under the tree.

They were left alone for not even 15 minutes in the living room while the rest of the family were busy preparing supper in the kitchen.  My mom wandered down the hall to see what was up when she heard something tinkle, and let out a gasp and a scream as she scooped up the two babies and shooed the rest of the family back down the hallway.  

 The sewing machine was no longer covered, the tree was on the floor, and the  blinking of the Christmas lights highlighted the shine of  of the ribbons and sparkly paper strewed around the room. Every present had been opened , inspected, licked, shook and finally ignored and ultimately spread around the living room.  Socks, jewellery, toys, games, baby dolls, puzzles -- all were exposed to the pre Christmas air. 


The general family population was banned from the living room for the remainder of the evening as Mom spent the time rewrapping and relabelling.

I think THAT was the year that I received my first bottle  of Evening in Paris Perfume and my 12 year old sister received a volume of  the Bobbsey Twin Books that interested her not in the least.



I can smell it just seeing the bottle.


I do not recall what we had for supper that night.



Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Great Fun!

It was a crowded day at the Mall.  People were jostling, bells were ringing, cash registers chinging.  The food court was FULL. The sound of hundreds of inaudible conversations was deafening. 

I had already developed that warmth that comes from wearing too many layers of clothing inside a warm and crowded building.  My feet were starting to itch inside my boots.  My parcels were feeling heavier and heavier while my bank account was getting lighter and lighter. I was fading in terms of being a careful and discreet gift buyer.  I was almost at the end of my list of 'must gets' and my bus was due to leave within the hour.  It was now or never if I was going to be able to purchase those last few 'need to buys' as I wouldn't be back into the BIG city until at least the New Year.

My eyes were starting to glaze over as I tried for the umpteenth time to somehow ignore  that itchiness in the untouchable and unreachable spot in my back that just cannot be scratched through three layers of clothing in public, when I glanced  over the railing down to the floor below and spied what I really wanted the most and had never been able to get in 60 years of Christmases.

Immediately my senses were attuned as to the situation.  I surveyed the upper deck of the Mall and found the fastest way to the escalator down to the main floor.  Itchiness, fatigue, and financial boundaries were forgotten as I focused on the goal.  With quickness and the finesse of a deer jumping over a barbed wire fence I darted through the melee of shoppers who were walking in the opposite direction until I reached my longed for desire.

 I looked at my watch and pondered the time it would take to acquire my treasure, calculated the risk of missing the bus, and saw that there wasn't even a line up, the lack of which I took to be a Sign that IT WAS MEANT TO BE.

My heart panted with excitement and Joy! Joy! Joy! I took off my jacket, threw my purse and parcels to the floor and ran over to my sought after Objet d' Amour.  









He asked me if I had been a good girl...and I had to say


NO!



It was great fun!   

.



Friday, November 2, 2012

Outside the Box

Christmas is creeping into my consciousness.  Not surprising considering the snow has arrived and everywhere we went yesterday in the city stores were already trimmed with festive decor in tandem with waning Hallowe'en  decorations.

I've sent the E-Mail that asks for Christmas gift suggestions...with the understanding that  'just because you ask, doesn't mean you get'.

I have spent the afternoon perusing catalogues 'in hand' and 'on line' thinking, choosing, adding, re choosing,  and dreaming of faces as presents are opened, examined, and used.  Sometimes, unfortunately, even after all the careful planning, gifts fall short of expectations, wants, needs, or even frivolous desires, but that doesn't mean that I haven't enjoyed the process. 

My DAD was the best gift giver ever--bar none!  He had a knack of sensing just what the best present would be.  He would give the thing that would 'hit the mark' or  'get the look' (1) when opened, and consequently be treasured for years to come.  I am thinking now of the gold/pearl pierced earrings he bought for all his daughters, the flashlights on another occasion, and the re bar gizmo designed to place under the back tires of a stuck car,  along with a snow shovel so I wouldn't stay in the ditch ( being the lonely spinster that I was as I travelled  alone, across the barren winter prairie). 

Other treasured gifts that I have received over the years is  an I Love Moo Cow decoration as well as a Beta Fish  and Plant from one of my children.  Measuring cups was a great choice made by another.  The embroidered angel picture from the crafty daughter is part of every Christmas decor, as well  as is the wooden Nativity garland from yet another. 

Presents sometimes give the biggest surprises not only to the the recipient but also to the giver.   

The biggest surprise to a Giver in this house was the Christmas morning when two recipients went running delightedly towards the opposite stockings filled with really interesting and surprising gifts.  Apparently Givers can get mixed up late at night, in the dark, in the quiet, after a long day of cooking, wrapping, organizing, and planning.  

As a child I had a childless woman in my life, (a distant cousin), who bought presents for the  all youngsters in the neighbourhood.  Sometimes she missed the mark horribly in terms of age appropriateness and interest.  I received a woman's glove and scarf set one year which was quite flattering as I was only eight years old.  The next year I received an orange/red heavy beaded necklace which was less than beautiful, and was considered to this then nine year old  even more hideous because I saw what a beautiful locket the neighbour girl had received from this same lady.  I mention this incident of ungratefulness on my part to point out that the process of gift getting  is as much an art form as is the process of  gift giving. 

 Sometimes even if the gift misses the mark in terms of value, usefulness, or interest on the part of the recipient, one must never loose sight of the fact that  a grand and precise process of thinking, choosing, judging, and evaluating  goes into a Giver's effort to find something that is just 'right' is the real gift.

It is the process that should be treasured no matter what you find in the box.  

I hope the recipients of my gifts will think of what has happened  'outside' the box no matter what they find inside their packages. 

..and I?  I will continue to savour the memories of Christmas' past with presents such as dark chocolate, wooden spoons, fancy coffees, wine, pillows, earrings, crystal glasses, cookbooks, games, bubble bath,  white chocolate, candles, bowls and books, gloves, ornaments, silverware, and measuring cups. 

Thank you.


(1)  The look is the look that is given from the recipient to the giver as they open the parcel which means "You listened" " You know" "You got just the right thing."  A formal Thank-you is  a redundancy after the look  has been given.  Nothing else really needs to be said but often is.  If you ever have received the look,  you are thinking of it right now....a nice feeling eh?

I got the look  when I have my Dad a Legion Pin he had been wanting and had given up ever getting; when I gave my husband a  filled stocking the first Christmas we were together; when I gave my son a copy of the Brave Little Toaster when he was 28; when  one of my daughters got an Elmo chair; when my other daughter received an axe and a  BillyBong; and when another daughter received a  milkshake maker; and, finally,  when my Mom found a crystal porcupine in the bottom of a  slow cooker one Christmas morning.




May your presents be many,

And your gifts bring them joy.

May the looks that are given,

Warm your heart with a glow,

With memories of Christmases from long, long, ago.