Signs of Christmas

Well, despite everything, Christmas is here. There are a few sure signs of it. A couple of cases of wine in the basement, or as we call it this time of year, the cave. A full fridge. Neighbour children bearing gifts of cookies and a gingerbread house. Thick Visa bills.

Today, the absolute barest dusting of snow.


And little signs around the house, too. A cat curling up in plaid blankets. (There's a person there too.)


Some candles for Advent. Well, this is too many for Advent, and not enough for Hanukkah. Does it have any symbolism other than that it made me think of my mother, who also had an oddly numbered Christmas candelabra? It's comforting to be welcomed home by these lights on a cold December night.


Also at Advent, nativity scenes. This one was made of stained glass by a older guy from our old church. I gave it to Kelly 11 or 12 years ago.


This one, made of olive wood by a Palestinian carver in Bethlehem, I bought in Jerusalem 4 years ago. I always set it up in a bed of cedar boughs.


This one, which hangs on the tree, is from El Salvador. We've had it for quite a while and it seems Joseph has always been a bit of a free agent, flying around in the background. This year I grounded him with a piece of gum.


This year, we decorated our tree on the 21st. That's a little early for us, but the traditional choices (Dec 22 in Kelly's family tradition, and Dec 23 or Tip's Eve in mine) were both otherwise taken this year. The first year I was away at University, I did not get back home for Christmas until late on Tip's Eve. I sent strict instuctions that no one was allowed to decorate the tree until I got there. Which, for some reason, they obeyed. I got home in time for supper after a 10 hour bus ride, and promptly fell asleep on the couch, waking up sometime later to a fully decorated tree.

Two years later, Kelly and I had our first tree. These red glass balls that you see here were purchased for that tree at the long departed Woolco on Water Street in St. John's. I had wanted to buy trendy red apple ornaments. Kelly convinced me that red glass was timeless. How right she was. I hate it when that happens. We still have 17 of the 20 red balls. And still no apples.


Some years later, after we had moved to Toronto, our friend Liz knit us two little stockings whch we hang up every year. Here is one, next to a wooden heart that I got for Kelly one year.


My mother had a beautiful pair of German glass birds that were always my tree-decorating highlight. Some years ago, I found this similar one in an Ottawa Christmas shop. (Actually, I think it was a Shoppe.)


She also had some glass walnuts, again German. I remember gold, blue, and red. About 5 years ago, my sister gave me the red one. These delicate ornaments all travelled to Canada with us when we moved back here from Britain in 1968. I'm amazed they survived that trip, our childhoods and youth, and beyond.


For a few years, we had a cardinal as a tree topper but then someone made us an angel. I think it's kind of tacky, but it's the thought that counts. Now we use both.


Put all these things together and you get our eclectic tree, 23 (and more!) years of history.


We make it Christmassy outside too, with cedar bows, a willow tree, and lights on the front porch.


Stars in the privet and jewels in the lilac (which the squirrels like to tear off and throw on the ground in disgust).



But really, this is the TRUE sign of Christmas!


Library Idol, the great talent-fest that fills up the auditorium at the S. Walter Stewart branch every Christmas Eve. Kelly is a regular contributor, her repertoire including Any Book You Can Shelve, I Can Shelve Faster and The Librarian from Ipanema. This year, she went more traditional and straight-up: Good King Wenceslas. She plays a mean uke.


Really, this photo tells you all you need to know about Library Idol. Here a group of children, togteher with the children's librarian and her nephews, who performed as KISS, sing Jingle Bells.


Merry Christmas!