The old tungsten glow

It’s the holiday season again. People who know me know that I’m most in the Christmas Spirit in November. It wanes as December 25 approaches. Might have something to do with the pressure or shopping, overeating, darkness. It’s three weeks to Christmas Eve and there’s too much snow on the bushes to put up the lights and I’ve only bought a few gifts. At the risk of destroying my credibility as an environmentalist, I’m thinking seriously of having an “Old Fashioned Christmas” by replacing some CFLs with 60-watters. We can all gather around the warm yellowy glow of yesteryear as we read the revised report from the IPCC. Comfort and Joy?

I’m just back from Porchlight bulb launch events in Alberta (8 were held there this weekend). Suzy was there the week before last. We haven’t really seen each other since Hallowe’en. We both need a holiday. So we’re dragging the kids to PEI Thursday for Mini Christmas. Friday we spend with the Hickoxes; Grandma is 95 (?) yet still plays internet scrabble, and Jasper loves making popcorn gumdrop trees with Aunt Marg, little piles of popcorn stuck together with melted marshmallow gooiness. Then Saturday we have a full faux-Christmas day with Mom and Rod and Val with the new twins and Darcy (2) and Gram Weale (89 and also healthiest among us). We open stockings and exchange gifts and have a big turkey dinner and pretend the rest of the world is nuts for not celebrating that day like The day. Then Sunday back at Walden we welcome the MacPhees (Alan and Myrtle and their four kids) over to select and cut their tree from our 10 acre woods. We’ll drag it to the cabin, have hot chocolate and then trim it at their farm across the road. Myrtle always puts on an amazing spread, usually with a big roast of beef that’s extra tasty because it was raised over the summer in the field just up the hill.

(Yikes, I’m sounding like Stewart MacLean here. eek)

So yeah, we’ve got time coming to us. We need it. A little Old Fashioned will be fine. I’m looking forward to a soak in the bath house claw foot tub and hours by the wood stove with the kids. Jasper and Simon love the cabin. But it’s cold this year, and we’ve already had burst pipes. Alan and our neighbour Donald have banked the cabin with hay bales and are keeping an eye on things. Eileen our caretaker is dropping in tomorrow to sweep up the wayward flies and fluff up the pillows in the loft beneath the skylight. She usually also leaves an armload of dry split hardwood. My axe is dull.

Folks are working hard to make sure Suzy and I have a good little Mini Christmas. What better gift could a guy ask for? I’m tempted to call myself Blessed. But that’s kinda old fashioned and old fashioned is not officially my thing. Screw it.

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