What I Did During My Christmas Break

Early on Boxing Day morning, we said good-bye to my parents and began packing up for our trip to Mount Washington. My throat was a little scratchy, so I kept a cup of tea and honey close by. Then I started feeling a wee bit achy, took an Advil, and perked up immensely.

When we arrived at the parking lot below our chalet, snow was falling in thick flakes. We weren't quite certain where to go, but Daughter #2 knew a bit more about the mountain and guided us. No motorized vehicles are allowed, so everything the 11 of us needed for four days was hauled up by sled. Fortunately, it wasn't too far to go, but there was a steep incline, and I'd forgotten how hard it is to trudge through fresh snow. It was a wild time. Children were brought in, crying with cold and wet, for we hadn't thought to have their snow gear ready. Mr. F. desperately wanted his mother, but soon settled against my chest while I sang to him, while his mother helped get stuff indoors. 

My achy misery increased.

To make a very long story very short, I had the flu. I lay around for three days on the couch doing nothing. Nothing. No playing with the littles in the snow. No skiing. I barely managed a short walk the second day. The third day I just gave in, put on a movie and drowsed. The ache was dreadful. I felt cold most of the time.

You can guess where this is going - next to succumb was a son-in-law, both daughters, Miss S, then Mr. F. Oh, I felt even more dreadful. As one of my children commented, "Mom's a good sharer!" But everyone was so kind: making tea, running a hot bath, heating up my rice bag (thrown in at the last), and letting me lie on the couch.

On our last day, I felt well enough to accompany Tim and Travis (son) to their cross-country ski lesson. I thought I'd sit in the lodge and take photos. Then I thought I felt well enough to do a little snowshoeing, so I did. I felt decidedly brave to venture out on my own. These photos are all from that 2 hour snowshoe adventure, my only excursion. 

Weather conditions during the two hours varied from thickly falling snow to clear sunshine. When I rounded a corner and saw the light glowing on a scrawny tree, I knew I'd reached the entrance to Narnia. Alas, no one offered me tea, nor did beavers approach me. 

Magical loveliness around every corner.

From one vantage point I could see the chairlift where the other adults were, or had been, skiing. 

A small flock of gray jays flitted in and out of a tree, landing on the outstretched hands of a group of girls, also snowshoeing.

By 2:30 the shadows stretched long against the snow and by 3:00 the light had noticeably changed.

I was glad to see the lodge appear when it did, for I had reached the end of my energy. A cup of hot chocolate fortified me while I waited for the others.

So. The week did not unfold as I had planned. However, it was still a good week, and I certainly had a great view from the couch. We'll chalk this one up to making a memory.

Happy New Year! Thank you for reading my words. I appreciate the blogging community in ways I could have never envisioned. I've made delightful friends, been inspired by your posts to think about things in different ways, and I've emulated some of your projects. I'm looking forward to a great 2017!

A Different Sort of Christmas

We did something different for Christmas this year. In place of purchasing gifts for our adult children (there were presents for the grands), we booked four nights in a stand-alone chalet at Mount Washington, about 3 hours of driving north.

"Spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with your in-law families," we said. My parents came to spend those days with us, and we had a lovely time. 

So on Boxing Day (Dec 26) we packed two vehicles to the roof and beyond and drove north. On our second evening we feasted on cheese fondue, with crusty bread to dip, along with steamed vegetables and cooked meatballs. It was reminiscent of being in the Swiss Alps. And the snow fell in great, fat, drifting flakes; in hard, swift pellets; in steady crystal twirls. And the snow shone in between the snow. 

"Why does this woman like snow so much?" some readers may ask. 

I grew up where winters lasted far too long. By February I was sick of snow, sick of cold, and just wanted to escape to warmth and sunlight. 

Then I moved to South America. For 20 years. I can't tell you how much I missed the rhythm of the seasons. I even missed the snow.

Then we moved here, to southern Vancouver Island, where it snows very little, if at all. And I longed for snow. I still do, every year, and am thrilled when it comes, for I know that it won't last long at all. This year we've had snow here at sea level and we knew there would be a lot on the mountain. There was. 

This was our view at 7:46 this morning. Until that moment we hadn't been able to see the distant mountains. 

8:01 am. Faint pink drifts in to dismiss the blue of night.

8:11 am. A bit of yellow comes to warm the pink.

8:21 am. The sun lifts itself above the horizon and glows on the mountain peaks.

8:29 am. The rising sun washes most of the colour from the sky and pours it over the landscape.

8:37 am. The sun rises steadily for her short, shallow winter arc, and day's brighter blues will dominate the landscape.

By 10 am we were packed up and on our way home, with memories and a few other things to remind us of our time together in the snow. There will be more snow tales to come. 

The Week Between

Our view this morning. I can hardly stop looking out the window. 

This week between the years is a slow one, filled with family times, quiet celebrations, or louder ones when the littles are involved. Eleven of us are tucked into a cozy chalet in the mountains, playing games, talking, walking in the snow. Some will ski, others will throw snowballs.

I put my order in for snow in August. We've been blessed with it in abundance. Yesterday's arrival was a bit hair raising, but everything made up on sleds to the chalet and we are tucked in with plenty of good food, books, and crafts. 

I can't quite understand those who give a sigh of relief late on Christmas Day and say, "it's over." Advent is the long run up to Christmas and then the festivities begin. Perhaps this is an old-fashioned idea, but it's one I embrace. At home, the tree will wait and we will enjoy its lights, the candles, and the quiet scenes of Christmas until the New Year begins and beyond. This is the season to celebrate!