Christmas

Wishing you the merriest, whatever that means to you

It’s true, what they told us when we were little: Time passes ever more quickly as we get older. One holiday blurs into another, and before you know it, we’re turning the calendar page on another decade. 

Whoa, Nellie!

We put down our devices and look up from our screens. Where has everyone gone?

We put out the welcome mat, phone our friends, and ring the neighbor’s doorbell. Oh, there you are!

Old-school, maybe, but this restores in us a sense of community. And it reminds us of a more innocent time, when we met a stranger’s gaze with a smile, and the sound of a loved one’s voice was as magical as sleigh bells. 

That’s my holiday wish. Which is why I snapped this photo of my impossibly sweet–and always gentle–rescue kitty, Nellie. It speaks to me of our cozy family and the comforts of the season. Treasures, which I never want to take for granted.

Much later, I realized that I’d also captured a liminal moment. Yes, I know: Thanksgiving’s over, and the pumpkin decor is past its prime. The clock ticked forward, as it always does, and autumn gave way to winter a few weeks ago. Yes, I see: It’s a miniature tree, and the twinkling lights don’t reach the lower branches. What can I say? Measurements aren’t my strong suit. But hey, it’s all good. Our home is made for memories, not magazine spreads. We live here, and our home is a reflection of who we are, not the latest design trends.

Speaking of which, I’ll let you in on a little secret: A quick nap (which is where Nellie seems headed) is more delicious than the fanciest hors d’oeuvres. And another thing: I’d rather buy than make the traditional holiday dishes. Except cookies. Some of my favorite memories involve decorating Christmas cookies with friends and family. Here’s my Swedish friend Emma’s first try.

Shopping, wrapping, cleaning, cooking–you’ll get to it, in your own good time, and in a way that feels right to you. But life is short, remember that. Take breaks…take deep breaths when you’re feeling rushed…give and receive the gift of friendship. In this moment–while the kitties nap and the teakettle sings–make plans for an adventure. One that gets you out of the house, where the to-do list grows longer by the day.

Time is fleeting, and those tree ornaments can wait.

A weary world rejoices

Nativity Scene in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, NYC

Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.  –Norman Vincent Peale

Happy Hanukkah 2018

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For though my faith is not yours and your faith is not mine, if we each are free to light our own flame, together we can banish some of the darkness of the world. –Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks

Happy Hanukkah to everyone who celebrates the Festival of Lights!  May we find hope in this season of miracles, and be comforted by the presence of Light.

An early Christmas gift

On my way to Goff Island yesterday, I happened upon a family reunion. Tourists, probably, drinking in the winter sunshine after savoring a picnic lunch. The women wore modest clothes and hijabs, and the men wore ankle-length, cotton robes.  While the younger children built sand castles, replete with fancy turrets, a teenaged boy –positioned at a distance from his group–dug through the sand, examining and discarding tiny seashell fragments.

I lifted my sunglasses, smiled and waved. They waved back, generous smiles spread across open faces.

I thought I’d read the tide tables right, but Nature keeps her own timetable, doesn’t she? The Island was mostly submerged, so the harbor seals hadn’t yet hauled themselves onto the rocks where they typically congregate.

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The ocean heaved and frothed. Seaweed floated in swirling eddies.  But while I sensed the seals’ presence, I didn’t see any bobbing heads.

However.

In the sheltered cove, where the turquoise waters deposit their treasures, I found a pearly white seashell–exquisitely shaped, perfectly whole.

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I wandered toward the group of children, seashell cradled in my palm; and when I reached the spot where the older boy knelt, I slowly opened my hand.

I saw in his face a kindred soul, someone for whom simple things oftentimes bring about the greatest joy.

I spread my fingers wide, and the seashell spiraled downward. It landed gently in the boy’s lap, as if it were meant to be there, all along.

“Thank you,” he said softly, in beautifully accented English.

You’re so welcome, I thought, but I let my heart do the talking.

It was a quick exchange, no fanfare or fancy wrappings, but it felt to me like a Christmas blessing.

Holiday Gifts from Mother Nature

Ho Ho Ho! Mother Nature gave me some spectacular gifts this holiday season. You, too?

When I stepped onto my front porch, for instance, I realized that a hummingbird’s been ferrying fresh fluff-and-stuff to the fuchsia plant along our walkway. Using her beak as a needle, and spider silk as thread, she stitches the cushiony material to a sturdy branch. A quick whirl of her tail feathers, and voilà! Her walnut-sized home’s beginning to take shape.  ‪#‎RoomAtTheInn‬

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Just yesterday, I spied a pair of perky ears, lurking behind the low-lying wall in our backyard. Could it be…? Yes! Wile E. Coyote loped along our fence, and then posed for the camera before trotting up the neighboring hillside.

Oh, and hey, did you notice the tender green shoots, poking their heads through the damp soil at his feet?  We’ve had lots more rainstorms of late, and the thirsty soil is gulping it right down! Here’s hoping El Niño showers us with bountiful rains this winter,  so we’ll have wildflowers aplenty, come springtime.

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“Walking in a Winter Wonderland” might suggest snow flurries and hot chocolate to some, but it sings to me of blue skies and sandy beaches.

When sunlight slants through the water just so, the waves sparkle and shimmer like jewels. Nudged by strong currents, they’re capped these days with frothy meringue peaks. You can’t buy holiday treats like this, anywhere! But at Aliso Creek Beach, they’re free for the taking.

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Here, the simple joys of the holiday season, accompanied by the ocean’s magnum opus.

The sun sinks below the horizon, and a pair of surfers wash ashore.

Behold! They stand at the water’s edge, in soggy board shorts and dreads. We witness together the grandeur of this moment.

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In this season of giving, we’re encouraged also to receive…

Unspeakable joys, for those who watch and listen. Timeless gifts, no proof of purchase required and no expiration date.

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Christmas Baking with Sara and Joey

Baking sugar cookies on a rainy day…

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Wholly present in the here and now.

Flattened cookies can’t dampen our spirits…

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We’ll smear them with frosting, add jimmies and sprinkles!

Elves in the kitchen, working their magic…

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Licking their fingers when no one’s watching.

Sweet as nectar, this special day…

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Behold! The stuff of Christmas memories.

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Holiday Tea with my friend Sara

The tea house is filled with the homey smells of fresh-baked scones, cut flowers, and holiday goodies. Ornaments hang like jewels from the ceiling, intertwined with plaid ribbons and twinkling lights. Sara’s wearing her Winter Princess gown, and why not? It’s our very first holiday tea, and we’re celebrating in style.

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Sara chooses the TreeHouse luncheon, strawberry tea, and a heart-shaped scone. I opt for the quiche and vanilla tea.

Our server places two teapots and strainers on our table, suggests we might want to read our tea leaves when we’re done.

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Sara spoons a generous amount of sugar into her teacup, adds liberal swirls of cream. She tells me she’s tasted sugar cubes, once or twice. So yummy! “At my grandma’s house,” she adds.

“My Nana used to plop them into her English Breakfast tea,” I say; and though I’m flooded with nostalgia, I’m smiling at the effervescence of this day.

Our server returns to the table, refreshes our water glasses. “Those flowers are 100% edible,” she reminds us. Sara takes a nibble, promptly steals repositions my camellia.

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We eat our fill, and then visit the adobe houses and shops along Los Rios, the oldest neighborhood street in California. I follow Sara’s lead…

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Turns out, Santa’s elves have an affinity for gardening. Seems they also love birds, same as us.

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Such a coincidence, too, that this watering can looks very much like a teapot.

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Ho! Ho! Ho! The Grinch nailed a wreath to his front gate–because, you know, Santa’s watching.

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Sara’s transfixed by the “love dove”  on this merchant’s porch, but I’m drawn to the rusted birdcage that stands empty. Save for its rusted patina, it looks identical to the one in which my Nana kept Curly, her pet canary.

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We admire a local artisan’s wares: kitchen utensils, bracelets, and jewelry, exquisitely carved and then polished to a high sheen.

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A caboose rumbles down the railroad tracks, chasing its engine, and Christmas tunes blare from hidden speakers. Sara’s humming to herself, and so am I. There’s an easy harmony between us.

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We savor our special outing, capture its magic in a gazing ball….

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And as quick as you can say “Cinderella,” Sara’s traded her princess gown for play clothes!

“Now,” says my little elf on the shelf, “it’s time to bake Christmas cookies!”

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To be continued…

Thankful Thursday: Sparkly Purple Jesus

Remember the pearl-clutching that came of my first blog about Sparkly Purple Jesus?

If so, you no doubt recall that I was sorely tempted to buy the entire entourage. Sadly, there was not enough room at the inn; but yes, oh yes, the Prince of Light came home with me.

I heard your gasps of consternation amazement. I saw you whisper behind your hands, Why on earth did she plunk down good money for that uber-tacky coin bank?

The irony, of course. 

See also: A bit more merry in my Christmas, a lot more sparkle in these winter-darkened halls. I’m all about the ho-ho-ho in happy holidays, aren’t you?

So imagine my dismay when, after unwrapping my holiday decorations last weekend, I realized SPJ was missing!

I crumpled the tissue paper, turned the boxes upside down.

Nope, Sparkly Purple Jesus hadn’t been Left Behind.

I ripped apart my office desk and came up empty. In the storage closet? Nope.

Not under my bed, and not in the nightstand.

But then, I saw a flash of purple. I heard the heavenly choirs sing. Because…behold! Entombed in the wafer-thin space between my dresser and the wall, Sparkly Jesus was staring back at me!

I breathed a sigh of relief, brushed away the dust bunnies, and then placed him on the mantel, where he now presides over the decorated Christmas tree, in all his resurrected glory.

On this Thankful Thursday (every day) I’m glad for all things glittery–and for sensibilities that bend equally toward the sacred and downright silly. I’m grateful, too, for lightness of being, the gift-bearing guest that arrives unexpectedly, warms our hearts and brightens our hearths. What more could we wish for, really, on these darkest nights of winter?