Wintertime here in the Willamette Valley is characterized by gray skies, gloom, and galoshes, and I'm happy to report we're meeting that standard today. Weather Underground claims we're experiencing "light rain mist," but as any Oregonian could tell them it's DRIZZLE. The dry, cold days that have dogged us this month may finally be giving way to Normal, and I'm ready for it.
It's the kind of day that suggests you slip on warm slippers, prod the fire in the stove, and watch cats sleeping while your wife finishes wrapping the last batch of Christmas gifts. Cradling a warm cup of coffee, I'm meeting that standard, too. Earlier I put out bird seed and grabbed the paper from its box, but I'll hibernate here at the computer for the remainder of the afternoon. I won't need a reminder that the shortest day of the year is approaching, but on the flip side of that thought is this: spring is a day closer.
Yesterday was mostly hidden by a dense coverlet of fog, another seasonal staple in the valley. We drove to my sister's home in Donald, 90 miles north on the interstate, and I was one of perhaps a dozen drivers keeping at or near the posted speed limit of 65. I'd sound like an elderly person reminiscing about how it used to be if I mentioned how stupid my fellow motorists were acting, so I won't. The state police did stop a few to remind them, though.
When we arrived I realized, again, that there are exactly two traditions I look forward to at Christmastime—the lovely way my wife decorates our home, making it special all over again, and the hand-made crafts my sister fashions in her own version of Santa's workshop. (Call it sibling pride, but I believe those other elves would be jealous.)
Their talents are complementary, and nowhere more evident than around the windows in our dining area. Fir boughs gathered from the woods surround them, accented by old Christmas cards, small stuffed animals, and dozens of crafted ornaments. Can you say reindeer? If Santa ever needs a replacement or two on his team, I hope he'll call.
My meager contributions to all this festivity are two-fold—I stay (mostly) out of the way and agree with everyone, and I'm in charge of the coffee brewer. We're not buying gifts for each other this year (we are doing stockings), so I'm even off the hook for wrapping (which I do enjoy). That leaves lots of time for my slippers, in front of the fire.
And anyway, I've already got everything I really need. Every day of the year.
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