It is snowing in Boulder today with more than a foot already on the ground. The tiny, lighted deer graze under the maple tree in the front yard, looking like they have thrown thick white fur overcoats across their shoulders to keep warm. The multi-colored lights framing the front porch glow softly beneath the snow. This year we’ve had several visits from real deer, more often than ever before. One large rogue buck with huge antlers and a large tag proclaiming him to be #90 has spent much quality time in our back yard, nipping off the heads of all the roses in a feeding frenzy. paying no mind at all to our objections. Teams of wildlife service people have shown up with their radio frequency devices to track #90 and verify his location for their records.
I have begun my yearly practice of singing Christmas carols in the shower, in preparation for the annual caroling party, beginning with the lilting “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” and moving toward a crescendo with “O Holy Night” and “Silent Night” as the traditional finale. Since this is my only effort at practice, I approach it with hybrid vigor, as my father might have said.
I also find myself humming a certain Joni Mitchell song called “The Circle Game.” You may remember it. The chorus: “And the seasons, they go round and round and the painted ponies go up and down. We’re captive on a carousel of time. We can’t return, we can only look behind from where we came, and go round and round and round in the Circle Game.”
I don’t know about you, but this time of year makes me think more about missing family members and friends. Sometimes we wish for one last conversation with them, so we can say those things we should have said. This perhaps reminds us to say those things while we can to the living.
I have learned (I hope) by this point to remember the best and most wonderful things. Lately I am remembering my brother Paul, who left us in May. Paul had a rough time over the last few years (and in trying to help him, so did I). But I remember the great joy with which he played his fiddle, and the huge energy he devoted to riding his beloved bicycle in the mountains, and the hilarious sense of humor he had when we spent an evening in the old days cooking barbecued ribs on our back porch and drinking beer. He did love singing the Christmas carols also. Let this paragraph be a small tribute to the best things in Paul.
Another thing I do this time of year is remind myself of how lucky we are. Caitlin has graduated from high school and moved on to Colorado State University in Fort Collins, where she is doing very well in school and also getting some experienced as a DJ with the local college radio station. Shannon continues as a junior at the University of Colorado in Boulder, also doing very well and working toward a degree in Integrative Physiology when he is not snowboarding.
Mark and I are in relatively good health and grateful for our cozy house and our love for each other on this cold winter’s day. We are heading out later to look for the perfect Christmas tree. Recently we have seen positive change in the country, and have a growing hope for a better direction in the coming years.
Much love to all of you with the wish that you will have a peaceful and loving holiday season.
I have begun my yearly practice of singing Christmas carols in the shower, in preparation for the annual caroling party, beginning with the lilting “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” and moving toward a crescendo with “O Holy Night” and “Silent Night” as the traditional finale. Since this is my only effort at practice, I approach it with hybrid vigor, as my father might have said.
I also find myself humming a certain Joni Mitchell song called “The Circle Game.” You may remember it. The chorus: “And the seasons, they go round and round and the painted ponies go up and down. We’re captive on a carousel of time. We can’t return, we can only look behind from where we came, and go round and round and round in the Circle Game.”
I don’t know about you, but this time of year makes me think more about missing family members and friends. Sometimes we wish for one last conversation with them, so we can say those things we should have said. This perhaps reminds us to say those things while we can to the living.
I have learned (I hope) by this point to remember the best and most wonderful things. Lately I am remembering my brother Paul, who left us in May. Paul had a rough time over the last few years (and in trying to help him, so did I). But I remember the great joy with which he played his fiddle, and the huge energy he devoted to riding his beloved bicycle in the mountains, and the hilarious sense of humor he had when we spent an evening in the old days cooking barbecued ribs on our back porch and drinking beer. He did love singing the Christmas carols also. Let this paragraph be a small tribute to the best things in Paul.
Another thing I do this time of year is remind myself of how lucky we are. Caitlin has graduated from high school and moved on to Colorado State University in Fort Collins, where she is doing very well in school and also getting some experienced as a DJ with the local college radio station. Shannon continues as a junior at the University of Colorado in Boulder, also doing very well and working toward a degree in Integrative Physiology when he is not snowboarding.
Mark and I are in relatively good health and grateful for our cozy house and our love for each other on this cold winter’s day. We are heading out later to look for the perfect Christmas tree. Recently we have seen positive change in the country, and have a growing hope for a better direction in the coming years.
Much love to all of you with the wish that you will have a peaceful and loving holiday season.
1 comment:
Dear Lynn,
Your Christmas letter makes me all misty-eyed. I grew up on your christmas carol parties and have always tried to recreate them wherever I've lived. This year, we had a small gathering at our house in Purakanui, New Zealand, and I thought of you the whole time -- definitely missed your practised accompaniment and years worth of accumulated words. I actually wrote (and even mailed!) you a snail mail card the next day!
I've also recently joined a singing group and the current repertoire seems eerily familiar -- sang "The Circle Game" at the last meeting!
Gathering every year for Carols with friends is a kind of marker for me of having "community".
I am so sad to hear about Paul's passing, and I remember his violin and harmonica playing fondly.
All the best from down under,
Heather LaDell
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