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Today is a dreary, rainy day but a warm one. When I woke up, the first thing in my head was my list and what I have left to do. The house is all decorated so I just have to finish the tree and make a batch of fudge. Yesterday, when I was bringing up tubs of house decorations, I brought up a tub filled with boxes. When I opened the tub to check the boxes, I found only empty boxes. I didn’t return the decorations to their boxes last year. I laughed. 

One of the ornaments for my tree is one of the special ornaments my mother insisted we not touch in case we broke them. The ornament is a big, colorful ball. I always put it toward the top of the tree just as my mother did. I’m very careful.

When I was a kid, school always dragged around Christmas time. We did a few Christmas activities like coloring nativity scenes and making cards for our parents which helped pass the time. My nativity scenes were heavy on the brown, but the hay was yellow and Mary always wore blue. I remember getting a box of hard candy from the nuns, I think, on the last day before vacation. The boxes were cardboard and had white strings to hold to carry the boxes. I still have a box, and I hang it on my scrub pine. 

I put my nativity set on the table in the living room. It is an old one very similar to the one we had when I as a kid. My sister has that now. They both have chalk figures. When I opened the box yesterday, I noticed the camel was missing its nose. I found the nose and glued it back on. I bought the set at a church fair even though a few key figures were missing. I had to buy some sheep and the Wise Men. I easily found two Wise Men, but Balthazar, the Black Wise Man, was difficult to find. I hunted on E-Bay and finally found one. When he arrived, I put him with his fellow travelers. This Balthazar is about half a height taller and a lot bigger than the other Wise Men. I never checked his size. I was just happy to find him. Every time I place Balthazar I laugh. 

Today is warm which is a welcome change from the freezing weather we’ve had all week. It was so cold the water in the bucket where the tree sat outside froze. Even the dog didn’t want to be outside for too long. 

The tree is up and the lights are on. The rest will happen today. I did notice the tree leans a bit in the stand. I tried to open the pedal on the stand and hold the tree, but it seemed risky. I need a bit of help. I’m hoping to see my neighbor get home from work so I can ask him to help. If not, my tree will lean just a bit. 

I was worried that my to do list was too long for me to get everything done, but I’m doing a great job. Besides decorating the tree, I need to shop for a few ingredients, wrap my sister’s presents and make cookies, but I have a whole week on the cookies. I’ll wrap her gifts tomorrow as I’ll be seeing her on Sunday for the play. I think I’ll end up with a few days of rest, of sitting in the living room looking at my tree, listening to Christmas carols and drinking egg nog out of my moose mug. 

When I was a kid, everything we did added to the excitement of Christmas. The two times a day delivery of mail meant receiving so many Christmas cards we could hang them on a string which stretched across the whole living room wall. My brother and I looked through the Sears catalog just about every afternoon. I would circle what I wanted from Santa, but I changed my mind so many times the pages were messy with circles crossed out and new ones added. We stenciled the picture window with outlines of Santa and Christmas trees. We made our own ornaments using construction paper and crayons. We’d also cut the construction paper into strips which we strung together to make a garland. We made paper mâché ornaments using flour glue, that gloppy paste made from flour, water and a touch of salt. I loved my fingers covered in stiff glue. My favorite of all the things we did was decorating cookies. We’d crowd around the kitchen table. My mother would put different colored frosting in bowls on the table. We each had a spreader. We liberally covered the cookies in icing. That didn’t matter. They still tasted delicious. 

Christmas is still filled with wonder for me. I stop to look at houses covered in lights. I smile every time I see my tree. In many ways I am still that kid who loved all of Christmas, and I’m glad for it. 

The saga of the Christmas tree began yesterday. I went to the garden center and bought my tree. It is a concolor tree. I read about it in the flyer from Agway. The tree has long needles, a bluish tint and smells of citrus. It lasts a long time so we may even be talking about my valentine tree. I hadn’t ever heard of a concolor before, but my Colorado sister had one last year and has it again this year. I also did some shopping and bought decorations for the house and chocolates for stockings. This morning Skip, my factotum, arrived with Bobby, his factotum. I had wrestled the tree out of the trunk and leaned it against the fence. Skip cut more of the trunk so it fit into the tree stand. Right now the two of them are moving the tree in the stand to make sure it’s straight. I laughed at them discussing the tree’s position, “No, my left. Go the other way. Move it back. Move it forward. Okay, that’s it.” It took far longer than it sounds. Right now they are putting on the lights, as may sets as can fit. Christmas music is playing. The house is getting festive.  

My Christmas to do list is shrinking. The Colorado presents went out UPS yesterday. They’ll arrive Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest. Tomorrow is shopping for ingredients for baking. It is also wrapping my other sister’s gifts. Saturday is make fudge and maybe date nut bread for my sister. The marathon baking starts next week, and I have gifts for my cape friends to wrap.

When I was a kid, I never saw my mother wrapping gifts. She must have done them when I was asleep. We didn’t have a real attic. We had a Christmas Vacation attic with boards and insulation. A small ladder came down when you pushed opened the attic board. My mother used to hide gifts from Santa in the attic. I found that out one year when my father was in the attic passing gifts down to my mother. My sister was young then and she was getting a push toy which played music, and that’s what I heard, that’s what woke me up. I waited until my mother and father went downstairs for good then I sneaked down the stairs and looked through the bannister to watch my parents putting out the toys around the tree. I saw it all, and they never saw me. When I woke up and saw my gifts, I gave an Academy Award performance filled with wonder and surprise. 

I love Christmas, and the tree is like the icing on a chocolate cake. 

This morning I had an early meeting. The alarm was jarring, but something worse awaited me. When I got to the car, I had to scrape the windows, the first time in years. 

Winter has taken hold. This morning it was 27˚ when I went out. By the time I got home, it had warmed to 37˚. Never did I expect to use warm and 37˚ together in the same sentence. 

When I was a kid, my school had a Christmas fair every year. It was held in the auditorium at the town hall a short walk up the street. We only had a half day of school the day of the fair. We’d walk two by two up the street accompanied by the nuns. After arriving at the fair, we were cut loose. My mother always gave us shopping money and money to buy lunch. Tables were set up all around the room each manned by one of the mothers (a bit of irony to spice up the narrative). Some tables sold knitted mittens and scarfs. At other tables you could buy potted plants, old games and books. I remember one table was filled with crocheted chair headrests and arm protectors. My favorite table was the one with inexpensive gifts for parents. I always bought my presents there. When my sister was in the 4th grade, she bought a Christmas cactus for my mother. It is still living and every year it still blossoms. After shopping, I’d buy my lunch. It was always a hot dog in a soft bun with a small bag of chips on the side. I loved that fair. 

Today is finish my wrapping day. I got a good start yesterday so I’m hopeful today will end it. Mailing the presents day is tomorrow. Thursday is set up the tree and decorate the house day. Friday and Saturday are begin the baking days. Sunday is a play, It’s a Wonderful Life, with my sister. On Monday I will take a day of rest.

My dance card is so filled with Christmas I can’t help but smile.

Today is colder than yesterday. The clouds seem close. I’m glad to be inside, and I’m happy I have no plans to go out. 

When Henry went out, I went on the deck for a minute or two. As I was going back inside, I noticed something at the bottom of the two steps below the back door. A closer look was a mistake. It was a flattened grey mouse. I don’t know whether it was coming or going before its demise. I kicked it off the deck. I wouldn’t have thought Henry responsible, but he was sniffing the spot where the mouse had recently been lying. Maybe it is the first mouse returned but he was dropped over a mile away so I doubt it. Maybe it was going to be the third mouse stopped by Henry before it could get into the house. Either way, it’s gone to its heavenly reward. 

Cross another item off the Christmas to do list. All the gifts are sorted into individual bags for each person. I was determined to finish, and I did. Today  marathon wrapping begins. 

When I was a kid, the only gifts under the tree before Christmas were from my parents, and they were always wrapped. We got to open one of them on Christmas Eve, my mother’s choice. It was always new pajamas. We whined, cajoled and begged to open different gifts, but that never happened. We were stuck with the pajamas. We were ungrateful whelps. 

Santa’s gifts were never wrapped. They were grouped by kid around the tree. I remember one year it was my brother on the left, then me then each of my sisters. Our stockings were hung on the bannister. I can remember going downstairs and getting my first look at the tree surrounded by presents. It was always jaw dropping and pretty much stopped us in our tracks. In my memory drawer is one of those first looks. I remember pink doll furniture in the front, the bed covered in doll clothes. They were for my Ginny doll. I can still see the game of Sorry leaning on a doll cupboard. Books were on the floor in front. I don’t know why that one Christmas is what I remember the most because every first look on Christmas morning was just as spectacular. Santa was amazing.

Winter has settled in well before its official start. Today is cold again, down to 30˚. Yesterday’s blue sky has been replaced by clouds, but my grandmother would say no weather is predicted, meaning no rain or snow. She had a narrow view of weather. 

My to do list just got a bit smaller. I chose the cookies I’ll be making this Christmas. I even made out the shopping list. I think, though, I’m just avoiding the guest room still piled with unorganized, unwrapped gifts. I’m starting to feel guilty as I really need to get those gifts to Colorado. I’m aiming for Tuesday. 

Last night I watched Krampus. I was trying to cut my sugar intake from all the Hallmark movies I’d been watching. Krampus is a demonic force who punishes those who have lost the Christmas spirit. He is helped by iconic Christmas symbols like gingerbread men and elves, all frightening creatures with sharp teeth. Today I’m back to Hallmark. 

My house has been attacked by dog hair disguised as dust. Clumps line the route from the couch to the hall to the kitchen and a second route up the stairs to the bedroom. I can never walk down the hall without stopping to pick up dust clumps. Brushing Henry doesn’t help all the much. I think it just stirs the fur to fall. 

When I was a kid, the Christmas tree was always lit. At night, it was the only light in the living room until my dad got home. He’d turn on the light which shined over his chair so he could read the paper and go through the mail. My mother always included the Christmas cards she’d open so he could see who sent them. 

My mother had a metal index card holder to keep track of addresses and Christmas cards sent and received. It was green with fir trees and stars. Some of the cards were a bit messy with changes of address written above the old address. My mother had a limit of two years of no cards received before she’d stop sending the cards, but my mother didn’t toss away the offender’s index card. She just moved it to the back just in case.

I am in no way as organized as my mother was. I have an old small cardboard box filled with return addresses, some in duplicate. I empty the box and write out cards then put the addresses back into the box. I’m thinking to organize by replacing all the return addresses with this year’s and marking them 2018. That makes me feel a little bit organized and accomplished.

Today is cold but lovely. The sky is a deep blue, and the sun is shining.

Right in the middle of getting my toast and second cup of coffee, I noticed the mouse in the trap. It was a very nervous wee grey mouse. I dropped everything and took it for a ride. Later I’ll reset the trap with peanut butter.

It is a stay at home Saturday. Yesterday I did all my errands including sending my Christmas cards so today is catalog the presents day and start wrapping Colorado so I can get those presents to UPS. Tomorrow is begin decorating the house day and finish Colorado. My to do list is shrinking day by day.

One year we got a telegram from Santa. It was delivered by itself, not with any other mail. Santa told us he was watching to make sure we were nice, not naughty. That got our attention. One year I sent a report card to my sister to use with Ryan, my nephew. It was to be left for Santa on Christmas Eve. On the report card were good behaviors and underneath each behavior was a square. My sister put a gold star for good behavior or a black star for bad in each square. When she had to add a black one, my nephew cried and begged her not to and promised he’d be good. My sister loved that report card, my nephew not so much.

I always think the tree is the most personal part of Christmas. My tree ornaments tell stories. Some tell of Christmases long ago. I can close my eyes and see the tree in the corner of the living room at 16 Washington Ave. I can see us gathered around while we decorated. The ornaments were in boxes on the couch, and we got to pick the ones we wanted to hang. I don’t remember if the tree was full or scanty or short or tall. I always thought it was beautiful. When I was older, the tree was in the corner of a different house. The ornaments were the same. They were tradition, the continuity from Christmas to Christmas. My tree always has some of those ornaments as do the trees of my sisters. On my tree are ornaments my mother made for me. They tell of her love of Christmas, the love she passed on to my sisters and me.

I take time to decorate my tree. I think about the ornaments and the memories they bring. I love to sit quietly and look at the tree. It is always filled with love and memories.

Winter days, even sunny winter days, have a starkness about them. The trees are empty of leaves. The garden has stubs of flowers. The lawn is littered with pine needles once green now brown. Only the winter birds are here; the rest have gone to warmer climes. Chickadees, goldfinches, titmice, nut hatches and winter robins stay and are frequent visitors to the feeders. I keep the feeders filled.

My Christmas lights seem to have minds of their own despite the timers. One set out front and one set on the deck didn’t light at first so I had to turn them on and off. Now they light on time but turn off too early. I’m okay with that.

Remember that mouse on the stairs a few weeks ago? (That almost sounds like a Christmas tale but it’s not.) I noticed a few mouse droppings in the kitchen which totally grossed me out. The mouse had found its niche. I emptied and cleaned a kitchen drawer then put peanut butter in the trap and put it on the kitchen floor. I’m happy to say the mouse is gone, not to its heavenly reward, but to a field down the street. The creature was in my have a heart trap last night so I took it and released it into the wild with all my well wishes.

During our ride, I noticed how many houses are lit up for Christmas. Some are all white while others are all different colors. Down the street some lights wind around a tree trunk in bands of colors. I paused at that house. On my street three houses are lit. Another house with a lit fence faces the street. I’m thinking this will be a banner year for lights.

My house needs to be decorated. My list of cookies and ingredients has to be made. My cards have to be addressed and sent. My gifts need to be checked on the list. I need to buy my tree. I’ve been waiting on that last one as I’ve ordered new tree lights. Last year’s strands went outside. Usually I am daunted by such a long list but not by this one. I find every bit of Christmas joyful, and I’m looking forward to those cookies.

The morning is downright cold. I hurried to get my newspapers from out front and ran across the street to get yesterday’s mail from my box. The house felt wonderfully warm when I got back inside and, even better, the coffee was ready. I took my time with the papers and even toasted an English muffin. It has been a fine morning.

When I was a kid, I hated walking to school on really cold mornings, especially cold, windy mornings. We were bundled and layered, but we still got cold. Our cheeks got red and sometimes even a bit chafed by the wind. On days like that, I was happy to get inside, to the cloak room.

My school was old and had an assortment of sounds, and we knew every sound. The radiators hissed. The wood floors creaked when any of us walked on them. Windows rattled in the wind. The nuns wore beads around their waists, what we thought of as an early warning system, and we could hear the clacking of the beads one against the other when the nuns got close. Sitting at our desks we were never really quiet. We didn’t dare talk, but we moved our feet under our desks and shuffled papers; we were always restless.

My house too has familiar sounds. The pine floors creak. Hot air blows out the floor registers in the winter and cold air blows out in the summer. Ice cubes drop into the container below the cubes and water runs to replace the fallen ice. Henry’s nails click on the kitchen’s tile floor. The coffee maker beeps when it’s done as does the microwave, but the microwave is persistent and keeps beeping until I open it. I find that annoying.

Henry is a barker, a howler at times. I’m glad for that mostly but not so glad when he barks at car doors or at trucks beeping as they back up. I always look out front regardless. The other day when he barked it was the UPS man leaving a package. Henry got a biscuit for his vigilance.

Today is warm and lovely. The breeze moves only the dead leaves and the smaller branches. I have to go out today, and I’m glad to go as the rest of the week will be quite cold.

When I was a kid, December days lasted forever. The closer we got to Christmas, the longer the day. When Santa Claus began his appearances every afternoon on TV from a New Hampshire station, the excitement only heightened. We started coloring nativity scenes in school. At home, we decorated the house and windows. Many of the decorations were cardboard. Most were pictures of Santa and his reindeer. We spent hour after hour looking through the Sears catalog and rewriting our lists for Santa. We complained of catalog hogging and not getting our turns. Writing lists for Santa was the highest priority.

My mother loved this time of year as she had a hold on us. She threatened to tell Santa when we were fighting and being bad. That stopped us. None us wanted coal even though I don’t think we even knew what coal was, but as it was part of the Santa threat, we knew it had to be really bad. We never got coal. Santa must have been generous in overlooking our transgressions.

I have ornaments my mother gave me, and I have several pieces exactly like those we had as kids. I found them here and there and at antique shops. One set is four Santa cups. The handles spell out noel. I always wanted the O. I have a few ugly elves I always put out, some angels and a slew of Santas (I’m taking liberty here and saying slews is the collective noun for Santas). All of the Santas are from the 50’s. Some of them light up. I like those the best.

It is getting close to decorating time. I always say I’ll bring up one bin a day, but that never happens. Once I get bitten by the decorating bug, I bring up bin after bin. I love my house after I’ve decorated. It looks and smells amazing.