Wow, it's been a while since I was able to post. We've had a few interesting things go wrong here at the farm, and I had some more reconstructive surgery.
But I'm still in the holiday mood! Oh wow!
One of the forums I read had a question about sending holiday cards. So I thought I'd share my take on that, since for me, this is a wonderful part of the season.
I only send about a dozen cards each year to surviving parents, siblings, and very special friends. But the dozen that I send are special!
I keep my eyes open all the time for Yule cards -- and they may not be exactly "Christmas" or "Yule" cards; one year I found a box of gorgeous blank cards with a painting of a cardinal in the snow on them. (To me, cardinals and snow symbolise this season better than any other image!) One year I found some with Pooh and Eeyore and Piglet and Tigger on them, and so on. And, I don't necessarily find 12 of the *same* card. I just find a dozen cards I like.
On the afternoon of 25th of November, every year, I get out Enya's Oiche Chiun album (that's Silent Night, for non-Gaelic speakers) sit down with a slice of cranberry bread, a cup of coffee, and the cards. I sit down on the couch in the living room, so that I can look out the windows at the woods or the yard depending on whether I look out the south side or the north side.
Sometimes during the year I will have taken a cute, funny, or sweet photo of the animals or a pretty one of the farm or woods, so I print out a dozen small full colour copies. I also make sure to have bought a dozen really lovely Yuletide stamps. I have a dozen "gold foil" monogram seals, too, and my favourite pen.
I write a little note inside each card. I let the music and the view and the snack tell me what to write for each family, if that makes sense. Then I sign each card and tuck it into the envelope with a photo.
When all the cards are done and in the envelopes, by then the Oiche Chiun is over. So I clean a very old vinyl record of "various artists" including the Beach Boys when they *were* boys, Elvis, Bing Crosby, and so on, singing Yule and Christmas music, refill the coffee cup, and address all the envelopes, then stick the flaps down. I put a fancy gold initial seal on each envelope flap, and then the pretty stamp on the front.
By now, the old record is finished, so I put it away again. I rinse out the coffee cup, let the dog lick the cranberry bread plate, and then put on my boots and coat and mittens, and the dog and I walk the mile to the mailbox. Sometimes it's cold and clear, sometimes it's cold and windy, sometimes it's snowing or raining.
As we walk, I sing a very old Yule song called "The Holly".("Oh, the Holly she bears a berry, as white as milk. And the Mother she bore the Son, all wrapped up in silk"... there is also a Christian version of this carol, I think.)
We post the cards, the dog and I, and then we walk back to the house, still singing. By now the sun is setting, and the trees make black lace against the dim grey of the sky. Beside the branches of oak and maple and elm, are the dusky-green brushes of cedar, like embroidery between the lace. All around is the scent of winter, the cold, the odour of woodsmoke, the smell of the cedars, and often, the scent of "wet dog".
And then we're back home, in the light and laughter of the house, and it's nearly suppertime!
I make this into my own special part of the holiday thing. Because the family is fairly spread out, we generally don't exchange gifts. That's why the cards are so very special. Because the cards are special, I make the whole process of sending them special too. This is one holiday thing that I do alone, and if I am not in the holiday spirit because of illness or worries or whatever, then by the time I am done with the cards, and the cranberry bread, and the coffee, and the music, and the walk to the mailbox -- well, by then, I *am* in the spirit and have my equilibrium back.
