I invited grand-dog Sadie to walk, and she just stared at me from the bed. It was her way of telling me I was crazy. Maybe she realized the cold might hurt her paws, since the thermometer showed 19 F (-7.22 C) outside. If she had been with me, I would not have gone to the creek, but would have turned around at the stop sign. Being alone freed me to frolic on the frozen puddles. I adore the sound of cracking ice when you tap a puddle that has frozen over. Most of them were frozen solid, but there were a few excellent ones where the water had evaporated, leaving an ice top hanging in place. If my fingers had stayed warm, I would have tried a selfie video to showcase the sound.
A man I didn’t know rolled his window down at the stop sign and commented on my being outside. What an interesting story he had! He grew up in Maine, moved to Florida, and then relocated here in North Carolina. He repairs heating and air conditioning systems. He said it was 84 F (28.9 C) on a winter’s day in Florida, and that was just too hot. If he had been in Maine, he would have shoveled snow to get to the heating units. NC is perfect for him.
The longer I walked, the warmer I got. With half a mile to go, I took off a headband, put the knit hat back on, removed gloves, and unzipped the coat. It was wonderful to shed the layers when I stepped in the front door. I checked the clips from the cam on the porch and extracted one frame of my going out and one when I came home. I waved at the camera in the first and fanned my face with the hat in the second.
While cooling off, I chatted with grandson Nathaniel via text. He is spending his winter break with his dad upstate New York. I was pleased he sent me photos of peanut butter pinwheels and rum-raisin cinnamon bread he had made.
I asked if he was enjoying the snow in NY, and he sent me a photo of the snow angel he made the day before. That tickled me, because I love angels. This one had to be the tallest one I’ve ever seen, because Nathaniel is 6 feet 5 inches (1.95 m) tall.
Whether you are in the northern hemisphere or down under, I hope you are enjoying appropriate weather.
I looked back at the photos I took this Christmas, wanting to savor the memories. The time flew by with no time for reflection. It all began with a gathering of all the neighbors at Joyce’s house on the 20th.
Anyone with a birthday in a week before or after Christmas knows they are celebrated in nanoseconds. That’s all I’ve ever known, so I was pleased. A very special find was a birthday balloon in the shape of a Christmas tree. That summed it up perfectly.
Christmas dinner was relaxed for everyone. I was glad son John $pencer took a video of the flaming Christmas pudding. In England 40 years ago, neighbor Gillian gave us one she had made and included the recipe. I still have that recipe in her handwriting and use it every year.
After dinner, all but the two Johns went for a walk. Neighbor Logan shared his scooter with grandson David, which delighted David.
Four of us waited for the new year to begin. Six were side-lined by having been with someone who tested positive for COVID.
North Carolina snows are often beautiful and disappear without freezing on the roads. Ours came on January 3. I liked the margarita-looking birdbath on the deck and Sadie’s exploring a snowman on our morning walk. She growled, backed away, ventured forward, and finally sniffed the white alien.
The rock that had been in the birdbath wore an ice halo. This morning I noticed miniature lights on the Christmas tree. The tiny ornament reflected all the lights around it. To mark Epiphany, we’ll turn off the tree tonight at midnight.
We had a lovely visit with John’s folks. I always intend to hustle people to and fro so they can see lots of interesting places, but I often fall down on the job. We did get to Brighton, but there were no parking places near the Pavilion. Each time we go, we get closer. Maybe one of these days we’ll make it inside.
We thoroughly enjoyed getting all the news of home and were content to sit and chat by the fire. The girls, too, seemed to join in the conversation more than before.
I’d never want to run a contest to see who misses whom the most, but John $ was a sight. He cried for half an hour after the crew left. That night we had invited the two Sutton girls to spend the night, so still had six places at the table plus the high chair. After I put the salads at each place, John $ touched each one saying, “Grandma, Pop-pop, etc.” Several times he has said their names with a question mark; he realizes they aren’t here, but can’t understand where they went. [He was 2 years old at the time.]
Last night for the first time since we came home from Christmas in Germany, there were only five at the table. Felt small!
Today we went down to the Wilson’s (owners of this house) to visit with them for an hour. They’d also invited old friends of theirs, the man a doctor, and the wife originally from Estonia. That was most enjoyable.
Tomorrow John is going to the airport early to pick up Gerhard who will have time for a short visit, lunch, and the trip back to the airport where he will continue his journey to Germany. We always look forward to seeing him.
John, Lisa, Kate, Gerhard
Tuesday we’ll get up early and get the Dover ferry on our way to Belgium.
Nymphenburg Palace was as beautiful as Versailles. In fact, it’s put together more cohesively. In a huge circle are small palaces, stables, walls, and the big palace. The large mansion is Baroque – lots of paintings, gilded scroll work and lavish drapes.
We particularly enjoyed the carriage display with gilded sleighs, regal coaches of gold with paintings and a musician’s sleigh.
In the large park are other small buildings. One, the Amalianburg, is a hunting lodge encrusted with lots of silver, special wall papers and Delft tiles.
Yes, a hunting lodge!
A toilet in the hunting lodge!
The orangery in the park housed a delightful little restaurant where we ate large hot dog type things.
An hour away from Munich are the Bavarian Alps – gorgeous! We drove around a resort ringing a large lake. There were oodles of chalet guest houses and hotels besides swanky shops and tempting kinditoreis. We stopped at one for coffee and dessert – the coffee being served with a miniature pot of whipped cream. There we also bought marzipan pink pings, the standard shape and colour to have at New Year’s.
Instead of eating at our inn, one night we walked to a fancy pizzeria and ate the best pizza since we left New York.
We went with Armin and his mother to a downtown church in Munich.
John $ thoroughly enjoyed his Christmas. When we walked into Armin’s house on Christmas Eve, Ingrid pointed to a study little wooden train set. It was his gift from them! John walked straight to it, played intensely and never noticed a bowl full of cookies sitting next to it.
Ingrid offered cookies to the children, but we wanted them to have dinner first. I even sneaked two bowls back into the kitchen when no one was looking. She brought them out again with a flourish, and we agreed she could indulge them to her heart’s content. $ stuffed his mouth repeatedly and loved every crumb.
They served ham decorated with pineapple, mashed potatoes, beans and carrots and Pears Helene. They told us that the usual Christmas dinner for Catholic Bavarians is fish and goose. [I didn’t write about it at the time, but Armin’s mother and her twin sister were there. Ingrid, a wonderful hostess, had us sit at two tables. Armin was with us at the English-speaking table, and Ingrid was at the German-speaking table. That took the pressure off all of us. We had general conversation after all, because John could follow it. If I knew the subject, I could get the gist of a story. It was a marvelous evening, one I will never forget.]
Christmas morning we opened a few little gifts in our room, ate Stollen and drove into Munich again for church. What a marvelous experience to worship in a Lutheran church in Germany on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day! For the first time, and probably the last, we saw two large trees flanking the altar softly glittering with real candles! When the music began we nudged each other with delight at every organ piece and chorale. John and I knew every piece of music in the whole service, and the girls recognized all but two! We knew all the melodies for the hymns.
We had feared going hungry all day since so many places are closed for Christmas and Armin and Ingrid were going away. We had no trouble. The most posh hotel in Munich had their very expensive grill open at $50 a head. Luckily John found a reasonable place in the basement where we could eat comfortably and afford it.
Anne John $ Lisa Kate
We started out for a different view of the Alps, but turned back when the huge flakes of snow began piling up on the autobahn. Instead we drove to Landshut – college friend Gerhard’s home town.
We rounded a bend, and John said, “There’s the cathedral of Landshut.” Soon the castle on a high hill dominating the town was in clear view. Breath taking! It was almost dark. After we ate sausages a few yards from the cathedral, we saw the buildings all lit up. The town looked rich with tastefully decorated shops, many Christmas trees, and quite a few people.
The Bavarian style of Christmas tree seems to be one with white lights only. We caught glimpses of white lighted trees inside, but the outside ones glowed with reflections on snow.
Our flight back to Heathrow was a few minutes early, but so was the Mehrling’s plane. John’s parents had waited patiently for us for three hours. Two men were there right on time to pick us up – we’d been afraid to leave our car in an outside parking lot for nine days since there would be no one to call to get it started if anything went wrong. England was closed up tight for Boxing Day.
The next day, Sunday, it was snowing hard when we got up. We took the easy way and stayed close to home, walking to St. Peter’s. The little church is particularly lovely all decorated with greens and flowers for Christmas.
Continuing our Christmas in Germany: Near Regensburg were strange tall poles with wire stretched over the tops. Armin said that is for growing hops – a beer ingredient – and that we were in the major center for it. The villages nestled in the hills were gorgeous, surrounded by snow laden evergreen trees that almost looked unreal.
Every morning we had crusty rolls, butter, jams, cheeses, honey and beverages included in the price of the room.
Lisa, Armin, Kate, John $, John at St. Ann
Armin guided us through Augsburg, the city he grew up in. He arranged for us to see the church of St. Ann that was closed – his cousin’s housekeeper let us park in their drive – and we walked across the street where a porter met us with the keys. The cousin preaches there every second Sunday and is the head of the Lutheran pastors in Augsburg.
The church itself was very beautiful – the old altar being very plain, and the new one at the opposite being Baroque. Armin’s mother was confirmed there, later had her wedding there, and it’s the church Armin himself regularly attended. More exciting, still, is the fact that all of you know of someone who preached there – Martin Luther! On one side of the old altar is the original painting of Luther that is quite well known.
Family and Armin are in front. Painting of Luther is on the left, way above Lisa’s head.
Baroque end of the sanctuary
In the Catholic cathedral not far away are the oldest stained glass windows in the world.
Christmas fair in Augsburg
Germans snack constantly. In the Christmas fairs are various stalls selling food. Armin bought hot, sweet-coated almonds to share with us because it’s customary to eat them while Christmas shopping. They also sold cotton candy – white. It’s often pink in the US and blue in England.
We ate in a German restaurant, walked a few more blocks to city hall, and drove past the oldest planned housing development in the world – built in the mid-1400’s for textile workers of the Fugger family. It was a lovely visit to Augsburg.
Oldest planned housing development
Every evening after dinner we went for a walk in the lovely little snow-covered town.
$ lay down in the booth when we were eating and said, “Night, night.” Two seconds passed. He rose up saying, “All gone.” He’s a tease.
Pillows in our rooms and in shop windows were square – about two feet by two feet. Germans do not supply soap or face cloths in their guest houses.
Answering the phone differs from country to country. In Norway you say, “Good day, good day.” If we answered in the English way, we’d say, “Tadworth 2978.” Germans answer with their last name. I heard Armin pick up the phone and say, “Herbst.”
Armin took us walking in the central part of Munich. We went in the Catholic Cathedral bombed to rubble and four walls in the war, now beautifully restored in modern style with remnants of stained glass windows, paintings, and furnishings from the original. The church was resounding with organ music because the man was practicing for all the Christmas services.
Wood carver
In one of the large department stores are special displays on every floor only at Christmas time – craftsmen plying their trades. We saw glass painters, doll and puppet makers, a woodcarver, baker, posy maker, etc. I asked Armin to ask the wood carver if I could take his picture. The man said it was against the rules of the store. As Armin was translating for me, the man motioned him over and said he wouldn’t notice if I did it quickly. So, I tried a quick time exposure before smiling and walking away.
We went in a Baroque style church – terribly ornate. Ingrid said we wouldn’t see any in England because they are all Norman or Gothic. This church had few inches left unadorned with angels, flowers, scroll work, etc.
We saw the outside of the opera house, concert hall and former king’s palace. Armin left to go shopping, and we did some shopping ourselves before taking the train back to our guest house.
Some young men came noisily marching down the streets wearing odd caps with feathers sticking out, drinking and blowing raucous horns. Armin deplored the habit. They had just been released from serving in the army and were celebrating in the usual way.
On our way to a palace we passed through the Olympic area used for the games of 1972. The architecture was most unusual. There were big poles holding up tent-like buildings.
We flew around Munchen (Munich), landed at Nurnburg, then back to Munich when the runway was cleared of snow. A bus took us from the plane to the airport where we met the patiently waiting Armin. (Armin H was an exchange student at Southwestern when we were in school. He visited us two or three times in New York. He married three and a half years ago, and this was the first time we’d met Ingrid. In the original letter, I inserted umlauts with a pen.)
After settling in at the guest house (the Mill) built on a large stream, we ate at Armin’s. We had Leberkas, dill pickles, and sweet mustard. What a treat! Can’t get good pickles in England nor that kind of mustard. Leberkas, pronounced “lay ber case” translates as “meat cheese”, but is in reality a special meat loaf put together by the butcher and heated at home. It looks something like bologna.
The train station was close to our inn. We walked, took a train into Munich, and saw the center of town where there were many stalls selling Christmas ornaments. All along the streets were stalls selling hot dogs and sausages, others with fruits, and others with cookies and breads. Took a bus to the airport and picked up our rented Mercedes that we’d insisted be fitted with snow tires.
The weather was marvelous. We arrived in snow, left in snow, and it snowed every day but one while we were there! It is unusual for them to have it so early. Meanwhile, England had snow just before Christmas, and we came home to find it still on the ground. Snowed again the day after we got home.
Germans love gadgets as much as I do. In our hotel bathroom was a motorized toilet! Truly! Lisa came from her room all bug-eyed saying hers sounded like it was going to take off.
A sobering experience we were glad to have behind us was the visit to Dachou concentration camp. It’s not something one wishes to see, but should see when in the area.
After that bleak place we toured a Baroque palace that is as elegant as Windsor and Hampton Court. They didn’t have Grinling Gibbons, though.
Ingrid served us soup with liver dumplings, sausages, pickles, sweet mustard, Armin’s potato salad, breads and cheeses, and marakuja ice cream. I may not have spelled that fruit correctly; it’s new from Brazil.
Sunday we got up at 5:45, ate Stollen in our room, and set out for Regensburg. We arrived for the tail end of one service, hearing an Advent hymn and organ postlude, and sat through the 9 AM service with three choirs. Ingrid told us later that the famous choir is touring Germany at the moment. It’s hard to believe the sounds we heard could be improved upon.
We learned that the “coffee hour” can be from 3 – 5 depending on what time lunch was eaten. We had coffee with Ingrid and Armin, sampling two kinds of Stollen from the best bakery in Munich and a lovely assortment of small Christmas cookies – Lebkuchen, Zimmstern, and others.
We tried pictures of some of the houses in Ismaning where we stayed. It’s a little town slightly beyond the suburbs of Munich. Many houses have pictures or decorative scroll work painted on the outer walls, something typical of Bavarian homes.
House in Ismaning
$ learned how to unlock and open the doors of our rooms at the inn, taking every opportunity to run wild in the hall. Consequently, we often took walks whenever we were at home base, despite the extreme cold. We particularly enjoyed all the little walkways skirting the streams running through town.
When I told Armin I’d found my dream house, he queried, “Here???” It is built right over the stream! The living room and balcony are over water at a point where the stream gurgles softly.
Every year we have gone to church on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. We’ve also had a special dinner at home on the 25th except for the year we were in Germany. This year plans were made early for niece Kathie and son Max to join us. COVID intervened, as both tested positive. She wrote us that they went to church on line, looked at the gifts in their stockings and celebrated the song, “Go Tell it on the Mountain”. They packed up their lunch, camp chairs, presents, and their porch snowman without arms, and drove to the mountains. There they sat beside a pretend fire ring and celebrated in the warm air (65F/ 18.8C). You know they will remember this Christmas the rest of their lives. I love their indomitable spirit of faith and hope.
A week ago we overheard neighbor Shawn say they would not be with family, so we pressed them to celebrate with us. Our phones had been silenced for church, so we missed the text that they were invited at the last minute to be with their son. She wrote, “I’m so sorry.”
My reply came easily from the heart, “Don’t be sorry since this must be an answer to prayer! We’ll be joyful instead.”
Bob and Shawn
As our pastor taught me, you don’t promise to pray for people, you do it that instant. I wrote a quick prayer and sent it to her. I tell you, this kind of thing makes life much more exciting! You get God in the middle of a situation, and you never know what joy will come your way. We didn’t think Shawn, Bob, and Logan would be eating with us. John, John $pencer, David, and I were hungry, so we decided to go ahead and eat the main part of the meal. If they came later, we would sit with them and chat while they ate. Perfect! They texted they were on their way before the food was cold. We would eat Shawn’s sweet potato casserole and our salad after they joined us.
God doesn’t do things in a stingy manner. Neighbor Joyce called. We knew her dinner guest was having trouble getting here, and Joyce let us know the woman cancelled. Would she join us? Yes! She would! We all sat down together and ate leisurely. We had a full table of the best neighbors in the world.
John and Joyce with Christmas pudding
Son John $ took a video of the flaming Christmas pudding. Most of us tasted it, but everyone had a piece of the delicious pumpkin pie Shawn had made.
Shawn wondered if anyone would be willing to go for a walk. We all knew it was the best thing to do after a heavy meal. John was excused, because he was loading the dishwasher and cleaning the pots and pans. Only Logan had wheels, his scooter, which I think was new to him last year. David expressed interest in trying it, and Logan graciously shared it. I told Logan that was the greatest gift he could have given David. Later David said he was sorry he hadn’t thanked Logan properly before they went home. He was thrilled with his time on the scooter.
David, Joyce, Shawn, Bob, and Logan
Joyce had expected her daughter to spend half a week here, but she tested positive for COVID and couldn’t come. Her new plan was to share Christmas with a friend who would also be alone. As you read, that bombed, too. They did have their festive dinner the following day. Our Christmas was not what any of us thought it would be, but I think it worked out beautifully for everyone. Put God in the director’s seat, and you could be in for a wild and wonderful ride!
Christmas blessings to all of you. Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for loving all people, especially those who read this post. You sent us Jesus — Emmanuel, God with us. Help us respond to your eternal love and your longing to be in a relationship with us. God, bless us all. Amen.
After getting hearing aids a few weeks ago, I was looking forward to the sounds of Christmas – recorded carols resounding throughout the house as I cooked and John decorated. I wanted to hear the organ and congregational singing at church in a clearer dimension. What I got was a good laugh at myself.
COVID numbers went up in Asheville, so our church requested that everyone wear masks again. It was PAINFUL! The hearing aids protested at sharing ear space with the mask. Whipping the cheap glasses on and off the same area rubbed my ear raw. I hid in the balcony for several weeks to avoid wearing a mask. The organist and recording techs up there were also bare-faced. It was a happy place until it was decreed that the choir would be in that space and required to be masked.
I decided not to go to church on Christmas Day. That would have caused consternation in the family, so I searched for another solution. Giving up either seeing or hearing was the answer. I left the hearing aids in their charger and went to church.
After the service, I sat outside the sanctuary waiting while John and David rehearsed with the choir. Pastor Gillespie, the one who preached that day, sat down and chatted for a minute. He lost me when he changed the subject. I heard him say, “How are you doing with the Kyries?”
The Kyrie (pronounced keer-ree-aye) is a part of liturgical worship – Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy. Lord have mercy. I didn’t think he knew I had been a church organist and would know the Kyrie. He must have seen the confusion on my face. He asked the question again, this time flapping his hands near his ears. Finally I realized he must be asking, “How are you doing with the hearing aids?”
Santa came to our house early in the morning, not in the wee hours. It was 5:27. Know what? Santa was not wearing a red suit with a matching hat. She wore a nightgown!
We had a lovely Christmas Eve, going to the candlelight service at church and coming home to have German cookies and eggnog. We sat at the table chatting until late. I should have remembered the little gifts I’d bought, because we didn’t exchange presents this year. I blithely went to bed without thinking of the empty stockings in front of the fireplace. No one was up when I woke at 5:27, so I put the candy in the stockings, along with a toothbrush to stop the damage the candy might do. (My dad was a dentist.)
Fireplace ready for Christmas
Everything was ready for Christmas Day. I had taken a photo of the elk neighbor Bob made for their yard. The first time Sadie saw it, she barked fiercely. This day she paid it no attention, preferring to sniff the ground.
Sadie with the elk Bob made
John finished decorating the tree, using only a portion of our ornaments. There were ones made by grandsons David and Nathaniel when they were children, one created by Logan, Chrismons I made years ago, some made by others, and some bought at a Christmas market in Munich. Many good years were represented on that tree.
Daughter Lise wanted to know about Christmas trees I had as a child. I think we had a small cedar tree every year. I presume Dad brought it in the house, whether he cut it down on the farm or bought it, I don’t know. Mom must have decorated it by herself. As soon as brother Bob and I showed the tiniest interest, she handed the job over to us. I’m sure we enjoyed it much more than she did. They never had a Christmas tree after we grew up, being happy to enjoy those of others.
Our trees were on the small side, not impressive in any dimension. The lights were large bulbs that could have easily ignited a dry tree, so we didn’t leave them on for long. We had an average assortment of glass ornaments and aluminum roping. Tinsel, which we called icicles, gave the finishing touch that added glitter and a bit of movement as you walked by. I don’t remember our breaking any of the decorations, so we must have handled them with extreme care. I loved some flimsy cardboard houses with holes in the back for inserting tree lights. They were magical to me at the time.
Neighbor Tom (Bob’s age, a teen then) brought us the most unusual tree ever. He was out hunting on his family farm and spotted a perfect tree for us. He was far from tools to cut it down, so he shot the base a number of times with his gun. I think he apologized for the ragged appearance of the trunk, but we loved it and told the story ever after. I thank you again, Tom. That was a marvelous tree, brought to us with lots of love.
Back in the 50’s we put up our tree fairly early in December and always took it down before New Year’s Day. I think that was the standard Southern procedure. John was horrified, knowing a proper tree should remain at attention until Epiphany, January 6. He always lived on a last-minute schedule, so he went out for our first tree in 1964, two or three days before Christmas. We were living in a fourth-floor walk-up in Queens at the time. Only the most pitiful specimens were left. We had been married half a year, so it didn’t make a bit of difference, because we looked at it with eyes of love. I realized the kind of tree was vastly different from the bushy ones I had as a child. I never saw another fat Christmas tree again. I will hear you when you snicker at seeing a photo of our first tree.
Our first Christmas tree 1964
John became a master decorator as the years went on. Below is the tree we had in 2019
My name is Suki, my human is a writer, and this is about my world. The world according to Suki The Cat. My humans smell funny, look weird, and I can't understand a thing they say, but they feed me, so hey, what are you gonna do?
Mehrling Muse 