Boughs of Holly. At a recent lunch reunion of three cousins, Cousin Sylvia gave me a trunk load of berry-laden boughs of holly. Some I shared with others; most is on the railings of my front porch. The day before the reunion, I had placed tree natural evergreen wreathes on the three upright posts of the porch, the first decorations I have had at Christmastime in my six Christmases at this residence. I’m not feeling more festive this year. I’m feeling a need to be closer to evergreens, to earth.
That’s right / That’s right: Words of wisdom and challenge from friends. This week a nineteen-year-old friend wrote that his father warned him about the dangers of negativity, and my friend repeated that we should expunge negative thoughts, situations, and people from our lives. A ninety-year-old friend observed that friends ALWAYS had time for visits with one another, no excuses of busy-ness.
December Days. They have been overcast, gloomy, dark. Let us not blare out these kinds of beauty with lights. I want to enjoy winter for what it is, to love the glory of days of dark, mists, rain, gloom, muted color.
Road Weary. This week I drove two hours east to a reunion, an hour west to visit with a sick friend, ninety minutes west for lunch and gift exchange with a friend, ninety minutes east for the same with other friends, and rode with friends an hour west for the North Carolina School of the Arts estimable production of The Nutcracker. Now it’s time to stay at home, to be alone and quiet, to receive the other blessings of Christmas.
Quotation from Readings of the Week. “So many of us believe in perfection, which ruins everything else, because the perfect is not only the enemy of the good; it’s also the enemy of the realistic, the possible, and the fun.” Rebecca Solnit, “Coyote,” article in The New Yorker, December 22&29, 2014.