Random Decemberness

December was a busy month, as it typically is, but this year it was made busier by our ongoing job search and several interview trips. But that's a post for another time.

Nathan's kindergarten had a "holiday" concert. Gotta love those Kwanzaa and snowman songs.

After the concert, the twins and I joined him for some serious graham-cracker-house decorating. The twins consumed a lot of candy and spent the rest of the day coming down from the sugar high.

In November, I managed to piece my first quilt in three years. I was so thrilled to be able to quilt again. I sent it off to an angel relative, who kindly did the quilting, and after I bound it, my newest little nephew got it for Christmas.

The kids and I had a fun dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Claus, at a local rec center.

They did a few activities, like cookie decorating, at the dinner.

We've had more than our share of snow in the last two months. This snow mound has only grown since this picture was taken.

The kids got a second round of Santa at our church's Christmas party. I was asked to read a traditional French Christmas story at the party as well. It was lovely.

Brian spent hours and hours shoveling. Occasionally the kids joined him, except that Madeline liked to take off her gloves. And cry endlessly after she did so.

Emma and Clara had a piano recital. This is the best picture (i.e., the only picture!) we've got. Their faces look pretty glum...but actually, they played beautifully.

And one Friday night, I got to take my girls to see the Nutcracker.

The other highlight of December was going to see the Messiah performed in the Cathedral of Saint Paul. I surprised Brian with tickets, in honor of our December anniversary, but alas, he wound up working late that night. So a good friend of mine joined me instead. The performance was absolutely incredible, and I just think it needs to be an annual tradition.

Christmas Morning

Our Christmas observance was quiet this year. We missed our "home" and family in Virginia, but we enjoyed being together--just us--in our cozy home here.

And it was a good thing it was a quiet Christmas. Brian and I spent several days being quite sick with the flu. Our flu shots failed us. Fortunately we were all better by the time the kids and I left for Utah.

On Christmas Eve, we had the missionaries and another family from church over for a traditional feast. Little did we know how sick we were about to get. Our Christmas present to that family? They got sick two days later. Fortunately, it was the season of forgiveness, and they are forgiving people.

Brian and I woke up Christmas morning and basically lay on the couch, nightmarishly ill, all day long. But no sickness is too strong to take away the joy of seeing our kids opening their gifts.

Tree Farm

I didn't send out Christmas cards this year, but if I had, this plain ol' snapshot might have served as our picture:

The day after Thanksgiving, we drove out to a Christmas tree farm and tromped around in the snow until we found the perfect tree to take home.

December 24

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining;
It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth!
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary soul rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night, O holy night, O night divine!

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,
Here came the wise men from Orient land.
The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger,
In all our trials born to be our Friend!
He knows our need—to our weakness is no stranger.
Behold your King; before Him lowly bend!
Behold your King; before Him lowly bend!

Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and His Gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother
And in His Name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy Name!
Christ is the Lord! O praise His name forever!
His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!
His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!

--"O Holy Night," Placide Cappeau, 1847

Blizzard

Minnesota is living up to its reputation, with snow--or snow flurries--nearly every day, with plummeting temperatures, with brief periods of sunshine followed by long hours of darkness, and, above all, with wind.

In the past few weeks, I have learned some important truths. One of these truths: Never wash your car. Ever. Or else the sliding doors will freeze shut, and you will be stuck in a parking lot in the dark with your kids in tow with the wind blowing with a car that will. not. open.

As I write this, the snow is blowing hard outside, but it is not blowing down vertically. It is blowing fiercely sideways, and fast, at 30 to 40 mph. The wind chill is 25 below zero. The snow is blanketing every exposed surface, including windows.

Nathan was invited to a neighbor's house to play. We bundled up in our warmest gear so we could walk three houses away. It took me several minutes to open the door and dislodge the snow so we could get out. Once outside, our legs sunk down in the snow up to our knees, and the snow hit the whites of our eyes, making it almost impossible to see.

My husband is trapped in another city. His returning flight, scheduled to arrive at midnight tonight, has been cancelled. He will, we hope, make it home tomorrow morning--for a few hours, at least--before he and I head out on an interview trip tomorrow evening.

Minnesotans are also living up to their kind-hearted and tough reputation.

This morning I watched out the window for about ten minutes. I saw a neighbor unearthing his sidewalk with a snow thrower (that sidewalk is now covered again with wind-blown snow); I saw several SUVs plow through the unplowed streets with ease and finesse; I saw a small sedan spin and spin its wheels, completely stuck; I saw the driver of that vehicle climb out, grab a shovel out of his backseat, and proceed with great energy to dig out his car and then continue on his journey; I saw a group of ten or so men dig out another vehicle that was completely stuck in the road, and when they succeeded, the group let out a collective cheer; I saw a squirrel attempt to climb over a snow drift, only to get submerged and reemerge a minute later, dusted in white.

A friend of mine called and informed me she would be going out Christmas shopping this afternoon.

Another friend called to let me know that hockey practice was still going to happen.

A neighbor called to tell me that her husband would be down later to unearth the 400 feet of sidewalk around our house.

We are warm and together inside, listening to Christmas music and watching with fascination as the drama unfolds.

And we are looking forward to spring.

(Update the next morning: The blizzard has moved on the pummel Chicago, which is where Brian is stuck. His flight home this morning was cancelled. Our flights tonight to our interview--with a layover in Chicago--have also been cancelled.)

(Update one week later: School was cancelled for two days in a row--something that no Minnesota native can recall happening before. The slick roads are dangerously narrow because of parked cars and snow banks on each side. Apparently this was one of the top five worst storms in St. Paul's history. And we did--eventually--make it to the job interview.)

December 10

"And how did little Tim behave?" asked Mrs Cratchit...

"As good as gold," said Bob, "and better. Somehow he gets thoughtful sitting by himself so much, and thinks the strangest things you ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people saw him in the church, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk, and blind men see."

excerpt from Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

December 5

“The most amazing thing about the Christmas story is its relevance. It is at home in every age and fits into every mood of life. It is not simply a lovely tale once told, but eternally contemporary. It is the voice crying out in every wilderness. It is as meaningful in our time as in that long-ago night when shepherds followed the light of the star to the manger of Bethlehem” [Joseph R. Sizoo, in Words of Life, 33].

December 4

“Of all holidays there is none that enters so fully into the human heart, and stirs so many of the higher sentiments. The thoughts, memories, hopes, and customs linked with it are bound by antiquity and nationality collectively; and by childhood and old age individually. They embrace the religious, social, and patriotic sides of our nature. The holly and mistletoe entwined among the evergreens, the habit of giving gifts to those we love, the presence of the Christmas tree, the superstition of Santa Claus, all combining to make Christmas the most longed-for, the most universal, and from every standpoint, the most important holiday known to man” [Clarence Baird, “The Spirit of Christmas,” Improvement Era, Dec. 1919, 154].

December 3

I am the Christmas Spirit.
I enter the home of poverty, causing pale-faced children to open their eyes wide in pleased wonder.
I cause the miser’s clutched hand to relax and thus paint a bright spot on his soul.
I cause the aged to renew their youth and to laugh in the glad old way.
I keep romance alive in the heart of childhood and brighten sleep with dreams woven of magic.
I cause eager feet to climb dark stairways with filled baskets, leaving behind them hearts amazed at the goodness of the world.
I cause the prodigal to pause a moment on his wild, wasteful way, and send to anxious love some little token that releases glad tears—tears which wash away the hard lines of sorrow.
I enter dark prison cells, reminding scarred manhood of what might have been, and pointing forward to good days yet to come.
I come softly into the still, white home of pain; and lips that are too weak to speak just tremble in silent, eloquent gratitude.
In a thousand ways I cause the weary world to look up into the face of God, and for a little moment forget the things that are small and wretched.
I am the Christmas Spirit.

Author Unknown

"This is the spirit each true Christian seeks. This is the spirit I pray each may find. This is the Christ spirit. No quest is so universal, no undertaking so richly rewarding, no effort so ennobling, no purpose so divine. The Christmas season seems to prompt anew that yearning, that seeking to emulate the Savior of the world."

Thomas S. Monson

December 2

"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more."

Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas

Lessons in Winter Living

Minnesotans know how to do winter. I am constantly amazed by the wide variety of indoor and outdoor activities for the five months of winter. There are free outdoor ice skating rinks, hockey teams, cross-country skiing, speed skating. There are skyways connecting many buildings downtown. There are open gym times at many local rec centers as well as indoor playgrounds.

My problem isn't a lack of activities. My problem is going to be getting out of the house, braving the subzero temperatures with two unwilling toddlers in tow, and frequently their older siblings, to get to everything.

We have thankfully received lots of advice on how best to weather the season, such as the following:

Fellow school parent: "Just have the kids wear snow pants, boots, gloves, hats, scarves, and heavy coats to school. That way they'll be just fine at recess and on the walk to and from school. It's also really good to keep extra shoes in their lockers. And gloves, too, in case they get wet." (Essentially, let's just pack a suitcase for school each day.)

**

Teacher: "When the temperature gets really low, the kids won't go outside for recess."

Me: "Define 'too low.'"

Teacher: "Less than zero."

**

Neighbor: "After the temperature reaches a certain point, like ten below, it's all just cold and numbers don't matter anymore."

**

Teacher: "School only gets cancelled here if the wind chill reaches fifty below. It just costs too much at that point to heat the school."

**

Neighbor: "Everything just slows down around here in the winter months. People expect that everyone will be late; people expect accidents and cars that won't start and neighbors who need a hand."

**

Church friend: "The sliding doors of your van are permanently frozen shut? Oh, that happens all the time--just heft the kids over the front seat. And don't forget--avoid car washes on really cold days." (My problem with this one is I am still trying to define what "really cold" means. And my car desperately needs washing. What to do??)

**

Fellow mom: "Forget salt. Kitty litter is what you want to keep in your car for traction. And don't forget blankets, a shovel, snow pants, energy bars, signal flares, and jumper cables."

**

Neighbor: "Nothing will get cancelled here during storms. Just triple or quadruple your travel time, and you'll be fine."

**

Friend: "Beware the black ice. It's everywhere."

**

Checker at Costco: "Watch out for semis on the roads. The drivers will bully you and try to make you spin off the road."

**

Fellow Mom: "Twenty degrees is nothing. In March, you will be thrilled when the temperature outside reaches twenty or thirty."

**

Friend: "Spring doesn't really arrive here until the end of May."

**

And my personal favorite, from another Fellow Mom:

"Drink a glass of wine before you open your February heating bill."

December 1

"I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creature bound on other journeys."

Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

November Pictures, Round Four--Como Conservatory

We spent one morning at the Como Conservatory. My mom was more interested in taking pictures of the kids than the foliage--and I can't complain about that!

My dad and I tend to the twins.

The duo points at everything they see.

Looking at the fish in the pond.

Next four pictures--Escaping.

Smelling the flowers with Granddad.

More fish.

Nothin' cuter. Anywhere.

In the toddler playroom.

Leaving the conservatory. A typical picture these days--I push the empty stroller; they walk.