Starry skies --- crisp nights ----- occasional snow feathering down ----sleds, sleighs and church bells.  That is what all the beautiful winter cards depict.  In real life, we often have what the meteorologists call “graupel” plus sleet and freezing rain, with a little mud underfoot, making slush, rather like what we’re getting here today ---and tomorrow.   The cards keep us looking for that bit of winter magic.  I wish that I could find a better use for the many beautiful cards, especially hand-made ones, with the lovely photographs or art-work; I save the prettiest ones, occasionally take them out to enjoy and sometimes put them into a collage.

When real snow does come, I am reminded of moon-lit sledding on my brother’s farm.  He had a nicely sloping hill with plenty of flat, empty space at the bottom.  We’d bring out sleds and saucers for a couple of hours of fun, illuminated by moon and car lights.  Occasionally, instead of trudging, we’d get a ride back up the hill.  In times of no snow, between Halloween and Christmas, we might have a hayride party where we’d snuggle into some loosened hay bales in a wagon pulled by the farm tractor, entertaining ourselves with singing and laughter.  Fun didn’t end with summer weather. A change in seasons only offers us new ways to enjoy life.  We need to look for fun things to do --- it is good for our mental health.

It has been a lovely Advent season.  We do what we can to buffer ourselves against the nightly servings of bad news around the world; news from places and people suffering, with no peace on earth.  The stories, legends and music around this particular holiday help and encourage us, for neither was there peace on earth 2000+ years ago.   Some people I know bury themselves in Hallmark movies; I have trouble sitting still for those, so I’ve been reading stories from “Tales Told Under the Christmas Tree”, short stories and poetry from some of the old “Ideals” magazines, and thoughts for the season from an Advent Daybook.  The aroma of baking cookies sometimes fills the air and, if not cookies, then spicy-scented candles.  The morning wood fire keeps the living room toasty and I can drift away to some other place and time for an hour or so, forgetting war, confusion, and dishes to be washed.

As our cold temperatures increase, the numbers of birds around feeders grow.  The chickadees are so friendly that I soon expect them to perch on my seed pail.   They seem positive that we are bearing goodies just for them.  The cardinals, with their bright crimson sit further away, and the blue jays, greedy and obnoxious as always, are a nice contrast in blue and white.  The omnivore blue jays have taken to stealing cat food as soon as the cats turn their backs.  Perhaps it is a game --- “Hey, Buddy ---How much can we get away with before Fluffy sees us?”    There’s other winter wild life around too; we sometimes hear the coyotes calling across the valley, their voices echoing through the night.  Others have seen a fisher (also called fisher-cat) in our neighborhood, but I have not.  And that’s OK.  They are rather vicious, quite-large, members of the weasel family and I’d rather they prowled elsewhere.  I look when I’m up at 2 AM, to see what critters we do have.  A couple of weeks ago, I opened the back door and faced two chubby raccoon youngsters about to climb onto the table where I’d put the cat food.  They were fluffy and cute, but they are also destructive, so I sent them away and moved the cat food.  I mentioned to them they’d make great muffs!  They left, but didn’t hurry, so I’m assuming they weren’t overly terrified by my implied threat.

Thinking of “middle of the night” experiences ----- in eighth or ninth grade, I hosted a slumber party.  “Slumber” is inaccurate, for there was little sleeping.  I have some photos of the occasion indicating that we played games, sang, and talked endlessly.  I remember, that at 3 AM, we rang cow bells outside, and sang “It’s Three O’Clock In The Morning”*.  Fortunately, we had no really close neighbors to be disturbed by the hullabaloo.  Thinking back, I’m astounded that my father didn’t object rather vociferously; his tolerance for middle-of-the-night noise would, ordinarily, have been zero.   My mother must have miraculously convinced him we should be allowed our mild rioting for one night.

Wakeful nights and not enough sleep are now major problems, for us and for many people we know.  It is as though we are stuck in the “waiting up for Santa” stage. Among our friends, we’ve joked about arranging a face-time party at 2 AM.  With “pillow hair” and eyes at half-mast, that’s probably not a great idea.  There are podcasts about sleeplessness, for, according to doctors, it is a serious problem hindering healing, impacting the immune system and aging mechanisms, and adding to a possibility of depression and anxiety.   Most remedies I’ve tried, worked briefly, and then ceased being effective. The scent of lavender is supposed to ease one into slumber, various herbs may assist (chamomile, valerian, hops), and a good bedtime routine is a sensible place to start.  But none of these, so far, have prevented those wee, sma’ hours when I lie there with eyes wide open to the night. If I discover any sure-fire assists for good sleeping, I’ll share.  Meanwhile, the next time we are all up at 3:00 in the morning ---Joyce, Judy, Bonnie, Janet, Diane, Pat, Barbara……..…….!

The tree is up and decorated and these last days before Christmas are usually filled with baking --- though less now than when everyone was home.  Having several kinds of cookies is surely a genetic pass-along from my mother.  She always had three or four cookie boxes awaiting drop-in guests.  Sitting around her kitchen table with a cup of Constant Comment tea and a cookie, looking out at the pond and bird feeder, made any day a good day.  With less baking though, there is more time to contemplate the Christmas season.  Some of our cards will go out this week, but many for family and far-away friends, will wait.  No one has time to read the lengthy letter that goes along with the card until later anyway.  It is, hopefully, an a-typical Christmas letter.  I never want to make it just a list of what we did, nor do I want it to be bubbling over with manufactured merriment.  Since we and many of the recipients don’t get to see each other often, it is our visit via snail-mail.  These Home, Garden and Other Wonders essays that go out to you, are also visits, in a sense.  Depending on what I’m writing, I frequently feel that I’m talking to one or more of you, in describing experiences that we hold in common or to which we can all relate.

Next week, the Solstice arrives.  That always brightens my perspective (pun absolutely intended!).  I know it will be a while before we really notice increasing light, but my inner being senses the darkness is diminishing, and I am cheered.  This very important earth-to-sun occasion often gets lost amid the bells and holiday music but it is a natural event for which we should be giving fervent thanks.   So, on December 21^st, give a cheer for the earth’s minuet with the sun.

In this month of multiple holidays, amid our happy times, we need to remember those individuals who are not celebrating; whose lives are impacted by loneliness, grief or pain.  Not everyone can embrace holly and jolly with open arms.  Life circumstances can leave one feeling out of sync with the surrounding merriment-filled world.  We could all be more sensitive and aware ---- offering the gift of understanding; being a friend who quietly listens.  And we should stop worrying about whether someone says “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays”.  Both work and it is surely not the season for insisting on one’s own way!  Consider offering wishes for “Peace”---something we all need ---- inner and outer.  Albert Schweitzer** was a wise and compassionate man, and he said: “At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person.  Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.”  Giving the best in ourselves at this season is better than the most expensive gift.  And we don’t have to wrap ourselves in sparkly paper or satin ribbons to do so.  Being a light-bearer, in our own personal ways, is a gift to the world if it helps just one person.

There are so many opportunities for joy and kindness, and restoration of our spirits.  Chanukah begins Sunday.  The Solstice is the 21^st.  Christmas is December 25^th.  Kwanzaa begins on the 26^th as does Boxing Day in England, a time to share with those who need help.  New Year’s Eve and Day come along with fresh, new calendar pages, and finally, 12th Night --- January 6^th --- the official end of the Christmas season.  This comment by Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks*** seems most appropriate just now: “For though my faith may not be yours and your faith my not be mine, if we are each free to light our own flame, then together we can banish some of the darkness of the world.”   Blessings to you in this season of light and love.

Carol may be reached at: carol42wilde@htva.net.

*”It’s Three O’Clock In The Morning ---Song from the early 20^th century, performed by a variety of musicians.

**Albert Schweitzer---Born in Alsace in 1875, becoming a French citizen after WWI.  He was a theologian, an organist, philosopher, humanitarian and Lutheran pastor.  He died in 1965 at age 90.

***Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks ---A Baron---  English Orthodox Rabbi, philosopher, theologian and author.  1948-2020.