Reflections On a Scottish Christmas
by Johnny Cunningham
The dark of winter wraps around us tight.
The lamps are fired, and flickering light
beats time to the fiddle as notes float
softly down, like the years' first snow.
While outside the window
a blast of late December wind
whistles harmony to the drone of the pipes.
We push the old year back against the wall
so we can dance a jig for Christmas
and welcome in the new.
I discovered a peril of herbal medicine recently. My husband was somewhat sick and I kept giving him stuff to make him feel better and then he would go to work. Where he wouldn't get any rest, and we would start again the next day, with him a bit more exhausted. So maybe helping him feel well enough to go was not doing him a favor. Trying to get him to take a day off is somewhere between "tough" and "nearly impossible," but people just need to get their rest, you know?
Speaking of rest, I could use a break (literally and figuratively) myself. Ever since the PTA Reflections arts competition deadline moved from after Christmas to before Christmas, my holidays have been more rushed. I love the Reflections program, but when I turned in this year's entries, I danced a jig in my heart that I am not going to be doing it next year. I've been coordinating the program for eight years and as many as three schools at a time. It's a lot of work at a busy time of year.
So we've had Reflections, illnesses, wisdom tooth surgery, pet minding, present shopping & making going on ... yesterday when I found myself grumbling to the Christmas tree about the fact that it keeps wanting to be watered, I realized that I should cut myself some slack somewhere. I gave myself permission not to post this week. I had to get up a million times while I was writing this (to attend to a cat, a dog, and a sick child) so I figure that was the right choice. Happy holidays, all!
Some old winter and holiday posts.