There is an old traditional song called In the Bleak Mid-Winter, which Sarah McLachlan composed new lyrics to, arranged and sings on her 2006 CD Wintersong.
The song is so right about now, November, one of the bleakest, if not the bleakest, months of the year. The sun rarely shines. Each day is dark, grey, miserable. Even when the temperature does an unseasonable rise to 14 Celcius, there is little or no sun. Instead it is rain and wind at the worst and those clouds at the least. Inside the house you need a flashlight to go from room to room. You have to turn on the lights to see the dirt to vacuum and dust it away.
As I did on Sunday when the temperature rose to14 Celsius. I did revel in that warm temperature and wearing my running shoes and spring/fall trench coat while outside briefly in the garden, moving fallen leaves to under the juniper tree in front and putting up more burlap, this time around what is left of the boxwood after God’s destruction of last winter.
Still have to spray the big juniper – at least what came back after last winter – with the protection for windburn this winter.
The rest is all hope and a determination to press on with living and thinking of what is good when the weather isn’t.
For me that is my writing, planning the 2015 garden, indoor gardening, reading, listening to music, walking, even watching favourite TV programs. And friends and family.
Especially my son Martin and his girlfriend Juni.
They took me out to dinner for my birthday last evening. Afterwards we walked the few blocks to the Hudson Bay store and looked at the Christmas scenes in the windows. Christmas scenes of old-fashioned Christmases from the 1800s and how people celebrated Christmas then. And how Santa and the elves prepared before and recuperated afterwards. Some of the elves at Santa’s Christmas dinner table pound their cutlery on the table demanding their Christmas dinner.
One of my favourite scenes here is the basement scene, underneath the family doing last minute Christmas prep. This basement scene shows the house mice all tucked in sleeping in match boxes.
Not really how mice live in a house they infest. But it is in keeping with the scene.
An nary a nativity scene – which suits me just fine.
More on what Christmas means to me in my pre-Christmas Eve post.
Until then, listen to Sarah McLachlan sing In the Bleak Mid-winter at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=phhRrGTKa5w
Sharon A. Crawford
Only Child Writes