We had 67 inches of snow in November, and it feels like we’ve had that much so far in December, but truthfully, we have reached the tipping point where we are bragging about how much snow we have shoveled, and gleefully upping the ante, as in: “There must have been two feet at my house last night” and, “Well, it’s waist high at my place,” and “Up on the hill it’s above my door.” Or– ” I’m hucking it up and over my head and it keeps falling back.”
“I think we need to postpone the book club meeting, ” Anne said this afternoon. ” Fuzzy said she could walk, but there’s a bear in my neighborhood that spooked her the other day.” (Yes, there are a couple of confused little black bears wandering about, peering in windows and scratching on doors.)
“I love the snow,” I said to Chip this morning.
“Well, you don’t have to run a lumberyard,” he said. He and his crew have been moving a lot of snow and could do with a break.
But it really is so cozy– and he talks a good game but Chip bought a tree from the school rather than cut one and he had it ready
when I returned from a quick trip to Juneau for the December gallery walk, thanks to a break in the weather.
I signed a bunch of my books at Hearthside, and they have so many other lovely books which are perfect gifts. (I bought some great picture books for Juneau grandkids.)
But back to our tree: I called the Haines grandkids who are home (half the gang is in Kona…I know. No comment) and promised them deer meatloaf and homemade mac and cheese, and so they came to help us,
Then Chip said, “Where are the colored lights?”
I explained that white lights are prettier, and simpler, in a classic, quiet way. (My mother disdained all aspects of a commercial Christmas, and colored lights were a big no no.)
“I like colored lights,” Chip said. “But it’s fine. It looks good.”
Then our old friend Klukwan elder Smith “Smitty” Katzeek died,
and the next day we learned that Tony Strong — chef, attorney, writer and friend– also from Klukwan, died suddenly and unexpectedly ( we have been planning and postponing a special dinner with Tony for two years now, and I really wish we had just gone ahead and done it. I miss him already )–
So why not take the ornaments off and add some colored lights for Chip, for Smitty and Tony– and for all of us? It’s such an easy way to show my love and they are so joyful and bright in this very uncommercial of holiday places–
Today on a snowshoe with the dogs, I thought about all of this and the driving snow ceased, and there was a sudden, calm clearing moment during the storm. It was weird. I turned and looked and saw two trees poking through the snow, and then the two peaks beyond. The light opened up toward Klukwan. The river sparkled.
I believe it was a sign.
I am determined to pay attention to the spirits of this place when they speak to me. They are everywhere, it seems.
God bless us, every one.
