Monday, December 8, 2014

Christmas Tree Farm 2014

As a little girl the anticipation for our Christmas tree was almost immeasurable. In fact it was, because I don't think anyone has invented a way of measuring anticipation. The point is, getting our Christmas tree, putting up decorations around the house, and watching Daddy and Mama stringing lights outside was one of my favorite things about Christmas.

For the tree all four of us kids would follow Mom and Dad to the attic where we would crowd around the base of the rickety ladder (I was always afraid it would break) and watch the top half of Dad disappear into the dim space. On this one day the attic was no longer a forsaken creepy spawn for all the monsters we would make up and scare each other with. On this one day the attic was a place full of delightful surprises and forgotten toys - so of course we would always clamor for Dad to take us up with him. And sometimes he would!

Watching from below the wait was unbearable. I am sure it would have been much easier for Dad to send us away so he could bring down the tree without being pestered and without worrying that he would step on one of us on the way down or drop the long skinny box with all the branches in it on our heads. BUT, I am glad he didn't because I will always treasure these memories.

Monday, December 1, 2014

From Here to There Incredible Things are Everywhere...

Come with me back to 2010. I am standing outside with a pair of rubber boots I threw on - no socks of course. It is January and I grabbed my huge white coat that makes me look like a walking marshmallow. I didn't zip it up so instead I hug myself stuffing my hands in my pockets, keeping the cold at bay. I stand ankle deep in fresh clean snow. Up in the sky I watch my breath float away towards the gorgeous full moon. The light of the moon is so bright that no stars can be seen for at least one outstretched-hand-length away and when the light hits the snow it lights up the whole field almost as bright as day. I can see the Milky Way. The sky is black as tar. The sounds I hear are comforting. A pack of coyotes yip and scream as the hunt in the night. Owls talk. Chickens murmur and cluck softly. I walk into the driveway and admire the beautiful snowflakes on the hoods of our suburban, truck, water trailer. They are incredible. I turn back towards the house and head inside. By this time I can't feel my toes. Our blue Christmas lights have faded since we put them up last year. Icicles hang from the roof.

Now, step back into the present. It's December. I am sitting on the short flower bed wall, bare feet planted firmly on our concrete sidewalk.