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wordweaverlynnA strange and wonderful Christmas. This entry feels far too long already, but it reads like a badly condensed version of the past couple of days. Proceed at your own risk.
Back home, it was easy to get in the Christmas spirit. There were long conspiratorial phone calls with my sisters to make plans for family celebrations. I always started shopping early, as soon as cold weather started, and was invariably done before Thanksgiving. As Christmas drew near, the snow on the hills reminded me that it was December and the holidays were on their way. And I baked, made chocolate truffles, and cross-stitched homemade gifts all through December.
The soft rainy days of a California December don't yet say Christmas to me. And through most of December 24 I was definitely not in the Christmas spirit. I was in the Visio workflow spirit.![[livejournal.com profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
14cyclenotes is on vacation until after New Year's and housepet's new semester doesn't start until mid-January, but gramina and I had to work.
I was focused on getting everything done before my deadline, so I was working at white heat until 4:30 in the afternoon. Then the flows were all done, zipped, and sent off via email. One obstacle down, and then I could get away for a four-day weekend. Every muscle in my back and shoulders was rigid with tension. Even my neck muscles ached.
Michele sympathized, since she was achy too. "When you get home, take a long hot shower. It's too much work to get the hot tub ready."
Michele and I had planned to attend the 5PM Christmas Eve service at church--no choir, alas, but also no incense, to which I am increasingly allergic. And it was much simpler to go straight from work to our nearby church, then make the long drive down the valley to our house.
As soon as I settled in the familiar and beloved space of the church, I could feel my tense muscles beginning to unclench. Even without the choir, the music was rich and beautiful. (We have a pipe organ and a very fine organist.) I knew all the songs -- not a common occurrence in this Episcopal church, since I grew up singing hearty Baptist hymns about blood and service. The sanctuary was comfortably full, and there were lots of children in everything from jeans to red velvet dresses.
After church we picked up stocking-stuffers, stopped to feed a friend's cats, and then drove home through the drizzle and darkness. Most of the way we sang Christmas carols. After six years of friendship, we sing well together. Sometimes being with Michele is like being with my sisters; we always sang together, too.
As we pulled in, we were singing "Silent Night," my favorite of all the Christmas carols. Then we grabbed our laptops and purses and shopping bags and went in. Well, tried to go in. I didn't have my house keys. So we rang the doorbell and started singing "Here we come a-wassailing."14cyclenotes let us in, and housepet threw us each a towel. "I've got supper on the stove, and the hot tub is ready."
So we spent twenty minutes melting in the deliciously hot bubbly water. Sonja joined us, and we had a lovely long talk. Then we went in, dried off, and the four of us sat down to Sonja’s homemade corn chowder–the perfect soup for the night, and a Christmas Eve tradition in Michele’s family. Homemade chocolate-chip cookies for dessert, too. It was wonderful. It was family.
Later, I talked to Sonja as I wrapped some last-minute gifts. She was playing with the long cardboard roll from wrapping paper, making different animals and creatures from it. I couldn’t help laughing in delight as her lively imagination came up with fresh and funny images.
Then it was time to open one Christmas Eve present. I’d been wondering about the huge box in the living room– six feet tall, a foot deep, and elaborately swathed in plastic so imaginatively decorated that I didn’t recognize the source as trash bags.
“I don’t remember asking for anything that big,” I said. “But if you’ve got Aragorn in there, we’d better let him out tonight.”
Paul said, “Open it tonight. It’s a joint present from Sonja and me to the two of you.”
Not Aragorn, but something we really need: a couple of tall shelves from Ikea for the hall bathroom. (The master bathroom has only a shower, so Michele the devoted bath-slut shares the mistress bath with me. Sonja’s bathroom is downstairs.)
Then in the morning–more presents! A good reading lamp and lovely clothes from Sonja, who always knows what I need. Jeans black and blue, socks, gorgeous green velvet dress pants. Paul gave me Antonio Damasio’s Looking for Spinoza, which I have been wanting. (I have his other two books and have found them endlessly fascinating.) From Michele a gift certificate for a night in a hotel with her–exactly what I wanted from her–plus the very last present to be opened: Terry Pratchett’s Monstrous Regiment.
So I disappeared for a while, reading. I was forcibly dragged away from the book for Christmas dinner–the smoked country ham Michele’s father had sent, plus yams, mashed potatoes, corn, green beans, and Michele’s homemade apple pie for dessert. Then we watched Finding Nemo, which I really enjoyed, though it did inspire some tears.
Then I got changed and went off to feedauros’s cats and spend some time with Ruth Anne and rmjwell. Just the kind of party I like best. Good conversation, interesting people, hot mulled cider. Sometimes I think I go to parties so I can add my fellow guests to my LJ friends list. I definitely found a few last night.
I came back to the apartment, read for a long time, and slept fairly well, given that the cats wanted to play all night. Woke up this morning and finished reading the Pratchett. Now I’m lazing around, reading LJ, plotting web pages, and generally enjoying my solitude. Tomorrow I have a friend’s open house to attend; Sunday I’m going topunkmom’s. A busy but wonderful weekend.
Back home, it was easy to get in the Christmas spirit. There were long conspiratorial phone calls with my sisters to make plans for family celebrations. I always started shopping early, as soon as cold weather started, and was invariably done before Thanksgiving. As Christmas drew near, the snow on the hills reminded me that it was December and the holidays were on their way. And I baked, made chocolate truffles, and cross-stitched homemade gifts all through December.
The soft rainy days of a California December don't yet say Christmas to me. And through most of December 24 I was definitely not in the Christmas spirit. I was in the Visio workflow spirit.
14cyclenotes is on vacation until after New Year's and housepet's new semester doesn't start until mid-January, but gramina and I had to work. I was focused on getting everything done before my deadline, so I was working at white heat until 4:30 in the afternoon. Then the flows were all done, zipped, and sent off via email. One obstacle down, and then I could get away for a four-day weekend. Every muscle in my back and shoulders was rigid with tension. Even my neck muscles ached.
Michele sympathized, since she was achy too. "When you get home, take a long hot shower. It's too much work to get the hot tub ready."
Michele and I had planned to attend the 5PM Christmas Eve service at church--no choir, alas, but also no incense, to which I am increasingly allergic. And it was much simpler to go straight from work to our nearby church, then make the long drive down the valley to our house.
As soon as I settled in the familiar and beloved space of the church, I could feel my tense muscles beginning to unclench. Even without the choir, the music was rich and beautiful. (We have a pipe organ and a very fine organist.) I knew all the songs -- not a common occurrence in this Episcopal church, since I grew up singing hearty Baptist hymns about blood and service. The sanctuary was comfortably full, and there were lots of children in everything from jeans to red velvet dresses.
After church we picked up stocking-stuffers, stopped to feed a friend's cats, and then drove home through the drizzle and darkness. Most of the way we sang Christmas carols. After six years of friendship, we sing well together. Sometimes being with Michele is like being with my sisters; we always sang together, too.
As we pulled in, we were singing "Silent Night," my favorite of all the Christmas carols. Then we grabbed our laptops and purses and shopping bags and went in. Well, tried to go in. I didn't have my house keys. So we rang the doorbell and started singing "Here we come a-wassailing."
14cyclenotes let us in, and housepet threw us each a towel. "I've got supper on the stove, and the hot tub is ready."So we spent twenty minutes melting in the deliciously hot bubbly water. Sonja joined us, and we had a lovely long talk. Then we went in, dried off, and the four of us sat down to Sonja’s homemade corn chowder–the perfect soup for the night, and a Christmas Eve tradition in Michele’s family. Homemade chocolate-chip cookies for dessert, too. It was wonderful. It was family.
Later, I talked to Sonja as I wrapped some last-minute gifts. She was playing with the long cardboard roll from wrapping paper, making different animals and creatures from it. I couldn’t help laughing in delight as her lively imagination came up with fresh and funny images.
Then it was time to open one Christmas Eve present. I’d been wondering about the huge box in the living room– six feet tall, a foot deep, and elaborately swathed in plastic so imaginatively decorated that I didn’t recognize the source as trash bags.
“I don’t remember asking for anything that big,” I said. “But if you’ve got Aragorn in there, we’d better let him out tonight.”
Paul said, “Open it tonight. It’s a joint present from Sonja and me to the two of you.”
Not Aragorn, but something we really need: a couple of tall shelves from Ikea for the hall bathroom. (The master bathroom has only a shower, so Michele the devoted bath-slut shares the mistress bath with me. Sonja’s bathroom is downstairs.)
Then in the morning–more presents! A good reading lamp and lovely clothes from Sonja, who always knows what I need. Jeans black and blue, socks, gorgeous green velvet dress pants. Paul gave me Antonio Damasio’s Looking for Spinoza, which I have been wanting. (I have his other two books and have found them endlessly fascinating.) From Michele a gift certificate for a night in a hotel with her–exactly what I wanted from her–plus the very last present to be opened: Terry Pratchett’s Monstrous Regiment.
So I disappeared for a while, reading. I was forcibly dragged away from the book for Christmas dinner–the smoked country ham Michele’s father had sent, plus yams, mashed potatoes, corn, green beans, and Michele’s homemade apple pie for dessert. Then we watched Finding Nemo, which I really enjoyed, though it did inspire some tears.
Then I got changed and went off to feed
auros’s cats and spend some time with Ruth Anne and rmjwell. Just the kind of party I like best. Good conversation, interesting people, hot mulled cider. Sometimes I think I go to parties so I can add my fellow guests to my LJ friends list. I definitely found a few last night. I came back to the apartment, read for a long time, and slept fairly well, given that the cats wanted to play all night. Woke up this morning and finished reading the Pratchett. Now I’m lazing around, reading LJ, plotting web pages, and generally enjoying my solitude. Tomorrow I have a friend’s open house to attend; Sunday I’m going to
punkmom’s. A busy but wonderful weekend.![[identity profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-26 02:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-26 10:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-26 04:28 pm (UTC)What? You mean you don't *need* Aragorn? If not, send him over here... Enjoyed reading about your Christmas -- sounds extremely cozy.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-26 06:42 pm (UTC)Though I still think Faramir is more beautiful.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-26 09:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-26 10:03 pm (UTC)Shelves in this house are at a much higher premium than are bedrooms!
However, I am sure we could work out a sleeping schedule.... *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-27 08:33 pm (UTC)sounds like a lovely holiday, Lynn!
(no subject)
Date: 2003-12-27 11:13 am (UTC)Wassail
Date: 2003-12-27 02:50 pm (UTC)...
...
...
...
OK, here we go: Wassail is a spiced ale, or any celebratory alcoholic beverage. It's also a salutation wishing someone health, used in England in early times when presenting a cup of drink or when drinking healths. The spiced ale "wassail" is particularly associated with Christmas and Twelfth Night (January 6, the end of the Christmas season). The word itself comes from the Old English "wes" (from "to be") and "hail" or "hale" meaning well, healthy.
So when people "went wassailing" they were wandering around sharing celebratory drinks and wishing people well. Thus you get carols like "wassail, wassail all over the town! Our bread it is white (special) and our bowl it is brown. Our bowl it is made from the white maple tree; with our wassailing bowl we'll drink to thee!" (which I suspect carries an implicit rider of "as soon as you fill it up!") and "Here we come a-wassailing among the leaves so green! Here we come a-rambling so fair to be seen! Love and joy come to you, and to you good wassail too, and God bless you and send you a happy new year, and God send you a happy new year!"
Which is probably far more than you wanted to know, but it's your own fault -- you got me started! : )
Re: Wassail
Date: 2003-12-28 06:55 am (UTC)I've never heard of the "wassail all over the town" one...