A Woman and Her Dog

There she was, a wisp of a woman all but lost within her insulated parka. A knit cap was pulled down to her eyebrows, the ear flaps turned down and the draw strings dangling past her shoulders.

She was standing at the edge of the road shining a halogen flashlight into the treeline where her Siberian Husky was well... trying to take care of business.  The husky was glaring over its shoulder, apparently offended that the woman would not afford the dog an opportunity for some modesty.

Was the woman afraid the dog would wander off?  Surely a dog nearly as big as its owner understood its protective role and would not leave the woman stranded.

Did the woman feel the dog needed the help of the halogen to find an ahhhh appropriate spot?  If so the Husky had two reasons to be offended.

In the end I figured the woman simply needed the reassurance she was not alone on a dark December night.

Home is Where...

Home is where the hearth is.

I know that's not the traditional phrasing, but it came to mind tonight as I drove through a neighboring town that was dealing with a power outage.  Nearly every window in town was dark with the exception of one of two homes showing signs of flickering firelight. With the wind howling and the temperature falling I found myself imaging what such a night would have been like back in the 1700's.

I pictured a secluded homestead on a moonless December night. Wind rushed down a winding lane, picking up a scrap of discarded parchment and sent it pinwheeling through the air. A certain carpenter hunched further down into his jacket and, though tired from a long day of work, struggled to pick up his pace.

Adding insult to injury, a snow squall quickly turned the hard-packed lane white. The carpenter wound his scarf an extra turn around his neck.

Fingers tingling, eyes watering, and nose running, the carpenter rounded the last bend in the lane to see his thatched roof cottage. Smoke rose from the chimney and warm yellow light flickered in the windows.

True, his heart lived in that cottage; but at that particular moment the hearth was what called out to him.

The Twelve Days

It occurs to me that Christmas itself is a lot like the meals we prepare during this season.  The preparation seems to go on forever. Then in blink of an eye it's over.

Happily, the similarities end there. While overindulging at the dinner table leaves us uncomfortable and regretting our lack of self discipline, the hours spent with loved ones leave us with a spiritual fullness that we embrace and nurture.

Perhaps we should spend more time looking forward to the simply being together and less time fretting over finding the perfect gift. Come to think of it, we should transform the twelve days of Christmas into the twelve months of the year. Once every month we should make it a point to set aside some time devoted solely to sharing the company of those we love most. We should put the day on our calendar and schedule our other obligations around that date rather than trying to squeeze quality time into our agenda.

The Two Sides of Clarity

It is one of those nights when the air is particularly clear, the stars particularly briliannt, and the difference from an ordinary night strikingly noticeable. - Sort of like throwing open the window sash and realizing how finger smudged the glass I've been looking through really is.

Hanging low beneath the stars was what looked to be a double moon - a brilliant white crescent overlayed by an orb of charcoal gray just bright enough to be noticeable against the blacker sky.

It occurrs to me that the clarity of this particular night is like the clarity with which life is seen when we take the time to step back and look at things objectively.  And that being able to see two moons is akin to recognizing the two sides of every problem - the obvious and less obvious.

Clarity comes with the discovery that when we take the time to really look, the less obvious can turn out to be the bigger and better opportunity.

Perhaps we should all open our windows and see the world for what it really is more often. 

Holiday Wish

The warm embrace of family and friends.

The savory delight of favorite recipes.

Sharing of special memories bringing both laughter and tears.

My holiday wish for everyone is the opportunity to experience the magic of these simple joys.

Merry Christmas.

Happy Sun Days

Hallelujah, pass the sal... err... sunblock.

We've done it ladies and gentlemen; boys and girls.

Give yourself a high five, a pat on the back, and a long round of applause.

We have survived the day of the year with the least amount of daylight.  It's all good news from here - a little more light each and every day.  Before you know it we'll be sitting on the patio at 9:00 p.m. watching the sun drop below the horizon.

If you don't celebrate Christmas - you gotta at least celebrate the lengthening of the days.  Happy Sun Days!

Looking for Light

This time of year sometimes leaves me feeling as though I have been banished to a world of darkness.

Much like those who comprised the Fellowship of the Ring were forced to find their way through the long dark of Moria by senses other than sight, I find myself feeling as though I make my way from one day to the next by nothing more than instinct.

Rising in darkness; heading off to work in dim, gray light; returning from work in darkness - its a wonder I recognize the change from one day to the next.

All this darkness lulls the mind into lethargy. Brain synapses fire more slowly, "aha" moments come more rarely, and previously enjoyable puzzles become traps with teeth.

Thank goodness for holiday decorations that bring cheer and feelings of comfort into our homes. - Now if I could  just convince Motivated Mom the Christmas Tree needs to stay up until the sun shines for longer than the working hours in the day.