End of the Christmas Season

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.

Sneaky Snow

It’s a good thing I didn’t know snow was forecast, otherwise I might have gotten up several times during the night to peek outside. As it was, I saw the flaky symbol just before going out to walk. I thought, “Yeah! Right! Snow! Tell me another one. All those times you said it would snow last week and nothing came? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Looking at the map, I saw a big blob of gray. With my luck it would slide right by. Marla was out with dog Albert, and I told her snow was close. As we chatted, first one flake and then another flitted by. Snow was really coming down as I strode down the big hill. I took a photo at the stream, hoping to show the flakes. Some were already sticking to the boulders.

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Coming back, I needed a shot to show John that Qualla was white. At that moment he was having breakfast with grandson David in NY.

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The toy camera insisted we take Amy’s house, because Amy was in South Carolina. She would need to know what she was missing.

021216 Amy's house in snow.JPG

The camera also said my now white hair should be recorded. That little gadget has a sense of justice, uncommon for a camera. If I accidentally take unflattering photos of others, I should be willing to expose myself to the same treatment. I didn’t realize it would be a front and back selfie.

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Anne collared by snow

I wondered what I would do with John away. When you’ve been with someone over 50 years on a daily basis, you don’t take that absence lightly. I usually soak up the silence, but this time I put on some Celtic music in the living room. Did I strain to hear it? No, it was blasting, and I could hear every note three rooms away. Evidently, this was going to be a day of surprises.