On Sunday we sang the Advent hymn People Look East, which includes the verse, “Make your house fair as you are able, trim the hearth and set the table” and I’ve been doing best. The good news is Chip and I found a nice tree on the beach Saturday -after I bought a few pounds of Catholic cookies over at the Sacred Heart Church and before the parade and Gifts for Grub at the Legion– Then Chip strung the colored lights on the porch while I directed and hung the wreaths from the Scouts, and found the box of Christmas stuff in the cellar and did my best to artfully decorate so that when the girls got off the ferry early Sunday morning it looked like Christmas. We had a big family breakfast with blueberry pancakes and goat sausage and baby Caroline once again stole the show. She likes blueberries. You can imagine the purple hands and face. With all the visiting, the tree took shape a little slower than usual, first it was up and naked for a day, the lights went on that evening, and then the ornaments the next day, although there are still some left in the box and I hang one whenever I walk by and see a hole. It’s funny, I used to think I had to do everything all at once, so Christmas appeared like magic. Now I think there’s a kind of magic in the doing. There’s also the question of what “fair” means. I felt a little like George Bailey this morning, when I tripped on all the boots and shoes in the mud room on my way to get an armload of firewood. Instead of minding the mess, I was so happy to have a house full that I just sort of kicked a boot out of the way and stepped over it humming, “Make your house fair as you are able…”
