Christmas Present

Jim and I had just arrived in Massachusetts when I wrote my post about my jumpstart on Christmas. The last two weeks have flown, and we are facing New Year's Day on Wednesday. But, before I confront the demands of marching forward into the future, I'm leaning back and breathing in all the many satisfactions of the last few weeks. 

Although you Minnesotans might think it strange, cold weather is one of the reasons we like to go up north during the holidays. Because cold weather requires proper clothing, one of the first things we did was hop in the car to thrift. Triumph is the word to describe the fun of finding nine-dollar puffy jackets, five-dollar plaid shirts, and snow pants, new with tags, mind you, for an equally low pittance. 

Once correctly geared up, we were almost ready for the big day, but first, we had to take care of the birds. The nice man at the local seed store gave us a tutorial on the latest feeders, and we treated ourselves to a top-of-the-line gizmo guaranteed to thwart the efforts of the squirrely-est squirrel out there. Once we got home and began to enjoy the splendiferous assortment of our Massachusetts feathered friends, the chair in our favorite bird watching window, a two-bit folding number, now seemed woefully inadequate. We agreed it needed to be replaced. Smug describes our satisfaction when we found a solid, bentwood, zero-gravity chair in a ReStore for a mere 25 dollars. Life is good, especially when we fit that behemoth in the back of our car. 

In addition to baking, birdwatching, long walks in the woods, catching up with family and friends, and sunsets, I also got to do a little crafting. I was inspired while shopping at a winter market and wanted to make something homemade. Particularly gratifying then was the day my sister, Lauren, came over, and we whiled away some hours at our respective craft projects. While she coaxed muppet-like puppets into life, I cut out wool-tweed gingerbread men that I eventually stitched into ornaments. I might not be able to pronounce the word hygge, but I know the quality of coziness and conviviality when I feel it! 

for three grandsons! Conviviality also describes the December 20th atmosphere at the Bourne Historical Society's winter solstice celebration, a tradition that marks the shortest day and longest night of the year. Hot cider, scallops, oysters, and savory soups all served to assuage the gloom of the day. Our niece, Mavis, the society's president, presided over the event, and she charismatically encouraged us to write our regrets and hopes on pieces of paper that we threw into the flames of the outdoor fire. Picture the crowd huddled together while we watched our regrets turn to ashes and our hopes fly into the sky!

Two nights before Christmas brought the good fortune of a snowfall that covered everything in white. The temperatures dropped to the low 20s, which caused the lake to freeze over and present us with a blanket of snow. While the surprise of a white Christmas was a bonus, the absolute joy came from having our daughter, Leah, and her family drive up from Virginia to join us on Christmas Eve. Her husband, Rob and Tuck (27), Will (23), and Bragan (14) arrived in great good humor, and the real fun of the season began.

Although we certainly can't boast the acreage you enjoy in Wannaska Land, we have several volunteer white pine trees on our little lakeside lot, one of which seemed willing to come inside. Giving Bragan a saw and having him cut it down was fun. Christmas morning, we sat around our scraggly, little Charlie Brown Christmas tree and ceremoniously oohed and aahed at the reveal of each gift. As we sat together, sharing presents and stories, I felt a palpable joy to be in the company of my generous, open-hearted, and quick-witted family. Everyone is usually so busy and this sustained visit with them was such a gift. It was so lovely sharing this time and place with them, loving each other into a fuller existence.

All this cold weather allowed us to enjoy our wood stove, and Jim started to feel like CJ amid his daily tasks of cutting wood logs to size and the ritual of keeping that hearth fire blazing. Oh, and the food! Rob wields an oyster knife like a hot knife through butter. We scarfed down many local oysters and savored a lobster salad on Christmas Eve. In the morning, we all willingly saved french toast from drowning in pools of maple syrup, and I wish I had a video of Rob trimming and rolling herbs around our dinner's prime rib, which he deftly tied up before roasting. 

At the age of 77, I can safely say that I am no stranger to Christmases past. There are moments before the holidays begin when I grumble in dread of the work that comes with preparing for the festivities. Happily, each aspect this year felt like a present. I truly felt the gift of Christmas love, embraced the day with open arms, and like Scrooge, gratefully and sincerely asked God to bless us everyone!

Will, Bragan, and Tuck