Well, it’s here!
Finally, Christmas and a white one, too.
Strange but the build-up for me has been rather low key. I know, I wrote at the beginning of this month of magic about how excited I was. And I’ve played my favourite Christmas music and fetched the tree that has been duly decorated, well almost.
While rummaging in the storage closet for the decorations, neither my wife, Laura, or I could locate the tree lights. I found some new ones and strung them around the spruce that graces our living room only to be told that they were a gift from a friend, that they were actually outdoor lights, and that I’d have to remove them since they gave off too much heat.
I uttered those famous four words necessary for maintaining a smooth marriage taught to me by my friend, Rob: “Oh...yeah...right...sorry.”
I unstrung them and waited for Laura to return from town with new ones. The new ones were attached to a strand 200 feet long.
“Should be long enough,” I mused and set to stringing around the tree again.
Nope. Too short. So what you see when plugged in, is a wide arc that quickly moves to the centre around the trunk and spirals to the top. Hmmm, a helix. Oh well, next time one of us is in town we’ll purchase another string of lights, same length and add them to the display.
I suggested we repeat the operation exactly like the first only in the opposite direction. Then when the lights are lit you’d now see a double helix.
Wow! A Christmas DNA molecule glowing in the dark when you turn off the lights at night.
Quick, take a picture and send it to David Suzuki or CBC Radio’s Quirks and Quarks or someone of a genetic bent. But no, my idea was vetoed. Tradition, don’t you know.
String number one was unwrapped and re-wrapped to snake up and down and around the branches to meet the second string and so on, all the way to the top. And even though each Christmas I vow to bring a shorter tree into the house for the Yuletide celebration, this year I managed to fell (with the able assistance of son Doug) an even taller tree than last year much to the delight, of course, of Laura.
So the eight-foot step ladder was hauled into Casa Jones so I could reach the top of the tree.
The few snowfalls we’ve enjoyed have also raised my festive spirits: large, fluffy flakes being driven by a Nor’wester covering all and sunder.
The trees get fresh cloaks of white as do the shelters and vehicles. I have a fire freshly crackling with spruce or balsam in the fireplace and heated cider (non-alcoholic) with, say Arnold Bax’s symphonic tone poem Christmas Eve filling the room as I gaze at the spectacle outside.
Another shot in the arm to keep the festive spirit high was what has become a tradition in our community, the reading of a Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens that we did at our local community hall this past weekend.
Dickens himself condensed his famous tale into four staves that he would take on tour to read before packed audiences.
I was privileged to be asked to be one of the four readers. I got to read the part where Scrooge has his conversion thanks to the stiff-armed pointing of the spectre of Christmas Future.
Entertainment was provided by the Kam Valley Fiddlers featuring our own Rob Randle and Dave Kimpton.
There wasn’t anyone who could sit still while they played. I sure couldn’t. The music was great.
Nigel Jackson of Mile Hill Melodrama had organized the event and managed to get all assembled to lustily sing out some Christmas songs between readings.
Volunteers presented Christmas goodies, coffee, tea and pop during the intermission. We had a great time!
So, it’s Christmas. Laura, daughter Beth, son Doug and I along with two pooches, three felines and equines too numerous to name wish you all the very best during this holiday season and in the coming year.
I’ll be writing to you in the New Year.
Enjoy and, like Santa, laugh lots!
You can contact Rural Roots by e-mail: fbljones@hotmail.com or write to Rural Roots, P. O. Box 402, South Gillies, Ont. P0T 2V0.