I must admit that I am a sucker for a good snow dump, especially at Christmas time.
Last year the Christmas snowfall added a beautiful backdrop for the big days’ festivities and it remains to be seen what the weekend will bring. It will definitely be white, but likely a wet white.
I was out and about on Monday night taking in the lights amidst the rapidly accumulating snow. I absolutely love the muffled sound of cars as they crunched their way through the white stuff.
We had our first big gathering of the season this past Sunday as out of town relatives came over for a festive seven-hour lunch before going back home to enjoy their own gatherings. The food was plentiful and the fire was warm. Photo albums, Christmas carols, laughter and egg nog provided a lovely backdrop for the occasion.
The star of Sunday’s event was Nana who was wheeled over in her chair through the snow from KinVillage by her daughter and one of her sons. As it happened the 97-year-old was transported at the heaviest snow fall, which was right around noon. When she arrived, she was covered by a layer of dry powdery snow and looked cold, but had a big smile on her face.
The past couple of years have been difficult for many of us and appreciating a new found sense of normalcy sure makes a difference at this time of year. Life still has its stresses. Inflation, geo-political unrest in many parts of the world, climate calamities and occasional reflections on an uncertain future still exist, at least they do for me.
My regular routine at this time time of year to de-stress, is to channel my inner child and remember the magic of Christmas’s past. The Christmas morning breakfast feasts at our family home were spectacular. We were always joined by my beloved grandparents who lived up the road. It was exciting to hear them come up the front steps with their sacks of toys for us boys.
My brothers and I were not allowed to leave the table until everyone was finished. The bounty under the tree would not be touched until every last piece of bacon and blueberry muffin was gone. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a ritual form of torture that my grandmother loved.
After gifting, my brothers and I would head downstairs to play with our toys while the intoxicating smell of the turkey being cooked intensified during the afternoon.
I hope you cherish your Christmas memories as well. I can hardly wait for the weekend! Merry Christmas and peace and love to you all!
