November 10, 2013 – Dreaming of a Sandy Christmas
Christmas! Gah!
Note that I didn’t even say “Bah! Humbug!” That to me would be too festive.
My friends and family are normally surprised when they find out I don’t like the Christmas Season. I would gladly crawl into a cryogenic freezer from the First Sunday of Advent until December 26. (I feel the same way about the Season of Lent and Easter – I celebrate Easter Monday.)
There is no good reason for any of this. I had wonderful Christmases and Easters with my parents and aunties and uncles and grandfather. My four kids are all living and in fact have, happily, expanded our family. And my husband of 36 years and best friend for 38 is still living and doing dishes.
I’ve given up trying to analyze it and just go with the saying, “Feel the fear and do it anyways!” And actually there are parts of Christmas I like. Today I’m working on the annual Seasons Greetings photo postcard and newsy note, and I easily send out 150 of them.
*****
These days, though, I have a new motto – “Feel the fear and run away!” Yes, this Christmas – GBOH – my hubs and I will be at our trailer in Green Valley, Arizona for most of December, returning in the new year. Woo hoo!
We did this Christmas 2011 and it was – I’m sorry to say this – one of my best Christmases ever! Our fellow seniors in the trailer park don’t lack holiday spirit. They dress up many of the cacti like Santa. There is even a Christmas parade. We couldn’t believe it. A number of folks jazzed up their golf carts, and drove around playing and singing Christmas music. I can’t say as it rivaled the Toronto Santa Claus parade, but it sure was a whole lot less stressful. And there were no frozen toes!
Christmas Eve we were driving around in the desert. (A story in itself – and the drive was a lot longer than I had anticipated.) And we listened to the Garrison Keeler Christmas Special which was really quite funny. We would have listened to Laurence’s favourite Christmas story - The Shepherd by Frederick Forsyth's read by Fireside Al on CBC - if we had known about podcasts. http://www.cbc.ca/video/news/audioplayer.html?clipid=2179622316
Christmas day we lounged around, and I think we went wild and had THREE small cups of coffee instead of two. We called my mom and as many kids as we could – using Skype. There were some brave-hearted souls that went swimming in the pool – we weren’t two of them. And then, the Christmas Potluck. It’s a mini-church service and a maximum feast – all at one time. You simply cannot imagine the spread of food, and the widening of “middles.”
*****
We got to celebrate Easter 2013 in lazy AZ. By this time I had hooked up with the local Methodist church and yee haw! John Wesley, the father of Methodism, would have been so happy. In 1761 he wrote Directions for Singing in Worship with Commentary and here is one of them:
IV. Sing lustily and with good courage. Beware of singing as if you were half dead, or half asleep; but lift up your voice with strength. Be no more afraid of your voice now, nor more ashamed of its being heard, then when you sung the songs of *Satan. (*Note from Jan: He means the tavern.)
We were into it like slugs into beer.
Note that I didn’t even say “Bah! Humbug!” That to me would be too festive.
My friends and family are normally surprised when they find out I don’t like the Christmas Season. I would gladly crawl into a cryogenic freezer from the First Sunday of Advent until December 26. (I feel the same way about the Season of Lent and Easter – I celebrate Easter Monday.)
There is no good reason for any of this. I had wonderful Christmases and Easters with my parents and aunties and uncles and grandfather. My four kids are all living and in fact have, happily, expanded our family. And my husband of 36 years and best friend for 38 is still living and doing dishes.
I’ve given up trying to analyze it and just go with the saying, “Feel the fear and do it anyways!” And actually there are parts of Christmas I like. Today I’m working on the annual Seasons Greetings photo postcard and newsy note, and I easily send out 150 of them.
*****
These days, though, I have a new motto – “Feel the fear and run away!” Yes, this Christmas – GBOH – my hubs and I will be at our trailer in Green Valley, Arizona for most of December, returning in the new year. Woo hoo!
We did this Christmas 2011 and it was – I’m sorry to say this – one of my best Christmases ever! Our fellow seniors in the trailer park don’t lack holiday spirit. They dress up many of the cacti like Santa. There is even a Christmas parade. We couldn’t believe it. A number of folks jazzed up their golf carts, and drove around playing and singing Christmas music. I can’t say as it rivaled the Toronto Santa Claus parade, but it sure was a whole lot less stressful. And there were no frozen toes!
Christmas Eve we were driving around in the desert. (A story in itself – and the drive was a lot longer than I had anticipated.) And we listened to the Garrison Keeler Christmas Special which was really quite funny. We would have listened to Laurence’s favourite Christmas story - The Shepherd by Frederick Forsyth's read by Fireside Al on CBC - if we had known about podcasts. http://www.cbc.ca/video/news/audioplayer.html?clipid=2179622316
Christmas day we lounged around, and I think we went wild and had THREE small cups of coffee instead of two. We called my mom and as many kids as we could – using Skype. There were some brave-hearted souls that went swimming in the pool – we weren’t two of them. And then, the Christmas Potluck. It’s a mini-church service and a maximum feast – all at one time. You simply cannot imagine the spread of food, and the widening of “middles.”
*****
We got to celebrate Easter 2013 in lazy AZ. By this time I had hooked up with the local Methodist church and yee haw! John Wesley, the father of Methodism, would have been so happy. In 1761 he wrote Directions for Singing in Worship with Commentary and here is one of them:
IV. Sing lustily and with good courage. Beware of singing as if you were half dead, or half asleep; but lift up your voice with strength. Be no more afraid of your voice now, nor more ashamed of its being heard, then when you sung the songs of *Satan. (*Note from Jan: He means the tavern.)
We were into it like slugs into beer.