Monday, January 6, 2014

On the 12th day of Christmas

 
On the 12th day of Christmas.  Epiphany is the 12th and last day of Christmas.
The days after Christmas and new Years are over, those wintry evenings with not much to do, and definitely no urge to go anywhere , the ones that get spent just looking at the tree are the most enjoyable part of the Season to me.
I don't spend them critiquing  my decorations or menus or the cards I did or didn't send, nor the gifts Ok I send money, usually.  I don't dwell on memories of the good old days,  because these are the good old days.   In fact I think of nothing, my mind roams free across the hills and valleys of my life, sometimes it trips over it's own feet, slips on an icy patch and longs for gardening weather, 
 
 
 
 
So this year it rambled over seed catalogs, and how much I like Christmas lights, how much better my tree would have looked if I had a Snoopy themed tree topper( cutting it close there) wanting to sleep in a few more times, how nice rocking in a rocking chair was.  How I am glad to sit  quietly and enjoy my handiwork before I have to take it down and pack it away until next year.
and as I look out into this dark night I think back to a time when there were lights on every house in town.  And on Thanksgiving night everyone turned them on.  The wide spot on the road  through the woods became an enchanted village.
 
 
 
The tree is a little sparse this year, a new theme, Peanuts ornaments, well also an old theme, because some of them are close to 40 years old.  Christmas ornaments or something I can make into a Christmas ornament are sort of souvenirs of my life.  My Christmas tree has  a history.  the Swedish ribbon stars are something I learned to make at a Barkpeelers Convention, also learned to make cornbread there.  Big snowflakes, at least  they are meant to be snowflakes came from a drugstore Christmas in July sale, I stopped in for some sunscreen and bought a heap of Christmas stuff.   The garland is made of an old  string of red wooden beads and broken packing peanuts, I wanted a popcorn string, but not the mice it might attract.
 
 
 
 

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haiku~~~the cold path

walking, and walking each day something new to see I walk, my soul flies