Reflections of a Christmas slug

Oh, it has been a deliciously quiet Christmas. (Well, as quiet as life with five children can be.) The rain has continued to pour down on our hillside, bringing middle-of-the-night explosions of thunder and winds that sing loudly while doing laps around the house. It's been a great time to be still, and even a great time to have a small stomach bug (if there ever is a good time.) Probably just a mild case of exhaustion for both of us, my husband and I have enjoyed naps, a horizontal posture for reading, a handful of movies, and snack-like meals.

On Christmas Eve, we always have a meal on the deck (no matter the weather) and it is a simple spread of bread and cheese and apple cider. We read the Christmas story and remember the travails of Joseph and Mary on that important night. After dinner this year, we attended church with my mother at the local Episcopal parish. The service was beautiful, including incense and a wand of colorful ribbons that was waved ceremoniously above the congregation during the processional and the recessional. We are not Episcopalians, but I have a piece of my heart that hungers for the formal ceremony and the refreshment of the liturgy. Candles brought a gentle glow in the dimmed light of the sanctuary, allowing the message from Isaiah 9 ("the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light") to soak into my heart. As one who spent an entire childhood frightened of the dark, and who has experienced a handful of "dark night of the soul" seasons in her life, the message of light illuminating the darkness brings me tears of joy and nights of deep and fearless sleep. We have spent much of our Christmas break with candles and white Christmas lights as our light source. The constant and welcome rain makes it unnaturally dark during the day, and I find the light amidst the darkness to be an invitation to rest and relax.

Christmas day with my family has always been a joy. I appreciate the gratitude my children show for the kind of Christmas giving we do. After the gifts and brunch, we flopped near each other; while the grown-ups napped, children could be found painting craft projects, setting up Papo knights, reading books, listening to new music or writing notes to loved ones on new stationery.

Gifts are important to me; I love giving them, and I love receiving them. This year I received two favorites from my husband. I've wanted to read Joan Didion's The Year of Magical Thinking for awhile, and I was growing weary of the waiting list at the library. After opening it on Christmas morning, I read it in its entirety over the next two days. I will have more to say about this book in the future, but for now, the intensely personal account of family life and the death of her husband is incredibly well-written. You can almost feel the numbness, hear the questions, and sense her urgency on each page.

But, my favorite present from my husband was a pair of homemade socks. I made the gentle suggestion a while ago, showing my husband that Miz Booshay of Quiet Life fame has a little knit shop. Socks made by Miz Booshay? Well, my husband learned that a pair of Sweet Pea Knits socks would float my boat in a big way. Sure 'nuff, I opened them on Christmas morning. Included was a lovely note from Donna; it now hangs next to my computer, reminding me that I have a friend at Quiet Life.

The other all-round favorite was a surprise for our children: a trip to see our newly-moved friends. We will meet halfway between here and there, and we will savor every moment we have together. It's only been four weeks, but we thought that ringing in the new year together was worth the effort. We will be squeezed into three railroad cars that now serve as funky motel rooms. The forecast is rain. There will be three of us sleeping on the floor. Are we thwarted? No way. "We can read aloud, play new music, watch movies, play cards and board games and draw and talk and not sleep a wink." Are we excited? Well, yeah; just a wee bit.

Another favorite discovery this holiday? Soduko puzzles. A great way to keep the brain working when the body needs to be slug-like.

I have several favorite pictures to share, but I haven't had any success posting them tonight. If I come on tomorrow and see twelve posts of a rainbow across the valley, I will know that the blog fairies took a night off. Maybe it will work in the morning.