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| It's is beginning to look a lot like Christmas! |
This week has flown by! On Sunday I checked my teaching schedule and said to myself, "Ah-the last week before the Christmas holidays, and I have only one day of teaching...lots of time to get ready."
The to-do list was immense:- finish wrapping gifts
- cut the tree
- decorate the tree
- deliver gifts
- bake pies
- bake buns
- launder the bedding
- clean the house
- grocery shopping
- stop at the drug store
- etc...
Whirlwind forward to Friday afternoon, December 23, 3:30 pm. Cell phone call to hubby, "I am running a little late, I should be home by 4:00." No worries. The tree farm is open until 9:00 pm, and it is less than an hour away. We were going on our annual expedition to cut our own Christmas tree!
We left the house at 4:30, a cup of tea in hand, and drove in the dark toward the Christmas Tree Farm. It was cold outside and the temperature dropping. Wind chill forecast: -25 degrees C. Snow on the ground from last night. The trees along the side of the road are sugary white. It is going to be a white and cold Christmas after all!
We arrive at the farm and are shocked to see that there is only one other vehicle in the parking lot. Where is everyone? I say to the gentleman at the gate, "We are late this year."
He replies, "I hope everyone else is late this year because it has been slow." So slow that a sign announces that pre-cut trees are now $10.00 off. We look longingly out onto the dark fields. Then our eyes drift to the rows and rows of pre-cut trees...there are hundreds of Douglas firs and balsams, leaning proudly on the fences, all waiting for a warm home. The lights above make the snow on the trees glisten and each one beckons to us.
I am not sure if it was the darkness, the cold, our dog pulling on her leash, or a combination of those factors, but we quickly chose our tall and slim fir tree, and carried it over to be wrapped. We walked quickly to the cabin where we were offered a cup of hot chocolate and a seat by the fire.
That is when the magic happened. It was cold and clear. Stars sprinkled the sky. The fire was brightly burning, warm and glowing near its base of hardwood logs. We stood drinking in the sensations of the frosty cold night, the warmth, heat and light of the fire, the sweet taste of the drink, the twinkling of the stars, and the joyous silence of the woods. For a moment, it did not matter the length of the to-do list.
We headed back to the truck and our tree, the dog sprinting happily ahead, while we held hands under the stars. We had already begun our merry Christmas.
Until next time,
Bee Rich
