How to get into the Christmas spirit following 10 months of a pandemic threatening nearly every tradition? With Christmas books. Week 1: The Christmas Tree by Julie Salamon It had never occurred to me that it’s someone’s job to secure the “perfect” tree for Rockefeller Center each year. This is the story of that man, and his redemption as he finds both the tree and patience to wait for it as he befriends a nun who lives at the convent…
Cameron and his great-grandfather have bonded deeply. Over Looney Tunes. During the eight years of Cameron’s life, there have been a few visits to Connecticut, some Facetime chats, and loads of phone calls. But Bugs was a game changer. In researching a bit, I’ve come to realize that Dad and Looney Tunes were born the same year (1930). It was, apparently, meant to be. Despite hours of viewing (Gary gets in on the act, too) and many discussions, it is…
Wreaths are a welcome part of our family’s Christmas decorations. Off the top of my head, I can count at least seven wreaths around our house, inside and out. Maybe more. I have a thing for wreaths. No doubt, I got it from Mom. Farmer Gary, however, is more than willing to take them down as we move into double digits during the twelve days of Christmas. Because, around here anyway, those wreaths make festive homes for birds. This afternoon,…
As odd as this year’s Christmas will be (given the pandemic), it’s not the first time history has gifted parents with holiday challenges. For example, wartime. I can only imagine how my grandparents went to extra effort to keep those Decembers jolly for their young children. In 1943, staples such as sugar, meat, and coffee could only be obtained via food ration books – and even then, only when the items were available. Even after the world war was over,…
Memory is a fascinating function of the brain. It’s especially curious when two people share the same experience, but carry somewhat different versions with them into the future. For example, a Christmas shopping trip in December 1963, with Dad as my shopping buddy. Destination: downtown Pittsfield, Massachusetts. (After 1963, Mom always took me Christmas shopping. It was a treat. We would stop by Rosa Restaurant on North Street “for a bite,” as Mom would say.) It never occurred to me…
With all the talk of viruses in the news lately (and a century ago), I think back to the comfort, warmth, and healing provided for many years by the cherry spread. Mom only used the cherry spread when we were ill. The cherry spread plus slowly-sipped ginger ale took care of any number of tummy aches and “bugs.” (To this day, ginger ale tastes like medicine to me.) In many hours of digging, I’ve only found one photo that includes…
There is something so peaceful about watching the snow fall gently on a Christmas evening. But since today’s high temperature was 67, there’s no chance of yuletide snow-peeping this year. Instead, Gary, James, and I sat on the back deck and gathered around the fire pit, transfixed by the flames. We roasted hot dogs. We dined on fancier food earlier, and by nightfall a hot dog with relish and mustard just hit the spot. We even FaceTimed to Connecticut for…
Back in the 1960s, Mom started a tradition in the family. It was during Advent, those long weeks of preparation for Christmas. She set out the family creche as part of our Christmas decorations. The stable, the shepherds, the three wise men, Mary and Joseph. The tiny manger was there, too, but no Baby Jesus. Baby Jesus was hidden away until Christmas morn. Meanwhile, during those pre-holiday weeks when we children would get “itchy” (one of Mom’s great words describing…
For 27 years, I worked at an attraction in Santa Claus, Indiana, where Christmas music played from May through October. It was fun to watch unsuspecting visitors suddenly realize “Let It Snow!” was playing on the speakers in the middle of July, with outdoor temperatures approaching triple digits. Most smiled, a few rolled their eyes, several brave souls sang along. My first experience Christmas caroling was when I was three years old. Mom, who loved Christmas, announced to my brothers…
Today is the 25th of the month. It’s Christmas in October, did you catch it? Here’s a poem (a song, actually) that Mom wrote in April of 1957. Harry was nearly two and Dave just a month old. How Mom had time to think, much less create such a sweet lullaby, is truly beyond me! The Wonderful World of Downstairs The wonderful world of downstairshas ice cream every day;The wonderful world of downstairs is where my animals play. I will…