Spellbound at Christmas

The night is darkening round me,

The wild winds coldly blow;

But a tyrant spell has bound me

And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending

Their bare boughs weighed with snow.

And the storm is fast descending,

And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,

Wastes beyond wastes below;

But nothing drear can move me;

I will not, cannot go.

Spellbound

 ~ Emily Brontë

It seems a nothing thing this morning.  A morning of munching on a huge gingerbread cookie with a cup of steaming hot Irish Breakfast Tea and watching Gardeners' World Winter Specials 2022/23.  Lunch is scooping up a mashed avocado mix of chopped onion, lime juice, salt and pepper with seed filled crispy crackers and another cup of hot tea.  Nothing happening.

Every day nothing is happening except rain, rain, and more rain.  Decorating for Christmas is on a smaller scale this year, as I seem to procrastinate big time when it comes to packing it all up afterwards for storage.  This year the decorations lack that finesse that pulls it all together into something magical.  It’s disappointing.  I’ll try again tomorrow.

I had planned to write a bit about the gardens, but I think they floated down the street and out of sight two days ago.  I do have a few photos taken before the rains began to outstay their welcome.

A Bit of Winter Garden

Vic & Dustin

The Beauty of Weather Worn Wood

Hearts-a-Bustin' (Euonymus americanus) still holding a few leaves.

The green stems will decorate the winter landscape.

 Viburnium  'Winterthur'

Stray Maple Seedling in garden

Winterberry Berry in Leaf Litter

Speed Limit 25

In the rush of early morning,

    When the red burns through the gray,

And the wintry world lies waiting

    For the glory of the day,

Then we hear a fitful rustling

    Just without upon the stair,

See two small white phantoms coming,

    Catch the gleam of sunny hair.

Are they Christmas fairies stealing

    Rows of little socks to fill?

Are they angels floating hither

    With their message of good-will?

What sweet spell are these elves weaving,

    As like larks they chirp and sing?

Are these palms of peace from heaven

    That these lovely spirits bring?

Rosy feet upon the threshold,

    Eager faces peeping through,

With the first red ray of sunshine,

    Chanting cherubs come in view:

Mistletoe and gleaming holly,

    Symbols of a blessed day,

In their chubby hands they carry,

    Streaming all along the way.

Well we know them, never weary

    Of this innocent surprise;

Waiting, watching, listening always

    With full hearts and tender eyes,

While our little household angels,

    White and golden in the sun,

Greet us with the sweet old welcome,—

    "Merry Christmas, every one!"

Merry Christmas

      ~Louisa May Alcott

Is Santa Only A Myth?

Is Santa a myth, Mommy dearest.

Silly cat, arf arf arf!  Mommy is Santa!

WHAT?

:(   Dustin dear… mommy isn’t Santa.

Yes, you are!  Yes, you are!!  You gave me the car seat last year… you did, you did did did!  It said from Santa, but it was you mommy… you you you!  Daddy told me so :)

Mommy isn't Santa!     

VICTOR!!!

I didn’t do it.  Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.

Mommy is Santa.  You told me so last year… MOMMY IS SANTA!

Uhhhhh… I remember nothing.  I hear my phone ringing… BYE!

Listen, Dustin dear, Mommy really isn’t Santa.

Daddy lied?

Uh, he's not a fan of Santa, since he's on the naughty list most years.  

Oh…

Hey, what gives?  Space Doggy gets presents and we don’t???

That was the past, little Charlotte, let go of it and move on.

Move on?  I’m moving on right over here at your feet looking straight up at you, Mommy not so dear!

Oh… good grief, how long do you plan to sit on my foot.

Suck it up, Mommy Meany.  When was the last time presents awaited us on Christmas day, huh huh huuuuuh?

Mmmmmm… what are presents?

Exactly!!!  Even Austin can’t remember!

(Sigh…)  What exactly do you want from Santa, Miss Kitty Commando?

Forget Santa!  If you, MOMMY, give the presents, then what happened with ours?  Don’t you love us? 

Presents don’t equal love, they’re just things.  Good health, great meals, warm beds, cat trees are the things of love, not a pretty package wrapped in curly ribbon, sweet Charlotte.

Who turned on the Hallmark channel?

Well, Missee Charlottee Complainee a Lottee, where are my presents from you?

I am your present, Mommy dearest.  I keep giving and giving and giving.

Quit giving.  I’ve had enough headaches this week.

Presents, Mommy, presents… where are my presents?

Okay my little Pesto Gigantico, what do you want Santa to bring you?

I would like a kitty size adjustable bed and mattress just like yours, sweet Mommy.

What the hell!  You’re kidding me, aren’t you?  What’s wrong with my adjustable bed?

It’s only one person size and I have to stretch out thin as a toothpick to fit.

Santa’s probably going to say no.

Then I’ll know for sure that Santa is “Mommy”.

:(

 

Why don’t I ever learn?  Reasoning with a cat can drive anyone to eating two dozen Mint Milano’s chased down by a liter and half of Chardonnay.  Merry (hic up) Christmas to one and all, while I plan some last-minute shopping to deter a pesky little kitty from calling me Mrs. Scrooge every time she passes by.

Austin

Peek-A-Boo

Charlotte

Austin Breaking in Dustin's Cave Bed Replacement Cover

Two Peas in a Pod

Austin loves to cuddle, Charlotte... not so much.

It's pretty clear that Austin is a snuggle cat.

I seem to remember my childhood during the holiday season in vague recollections now with too much emptiness sprinkled about.  It’s as if there’s a frightfully long snowstorm brewing in my head working on whiting out the entire landscape of my previous existence.  It’s frustratingly frustrating.

So, I'm going to tackle the most unanswerable questions I have ever asked myself.  Why has Christmas always been a disappointment in my adult life?  What ever happened with the ability to see Christmas through the eyes of the child I once was?

The answer seems straightforward enough… I’m not a child anymore, but it grows deeper than that.  The orchestration my parents put on to create the best Christmas they were able to give us children seemed agreeable and enjoyable to them.  Christmas was alive for mom and dad while they were giving to us children, but as we, one by one moved away from home, that flame grew dimmer until, by themselves, it was extinguished quietly.

So… does the wonder and magic of Christmas exist only in the eyes of a child who has been blessed with parents who make it an all-out Broadway production, as best they can?  You bet!  I think as an adult, giving keeps that tradition alive, but if we are left with only ourselves to give to, then Christmas begins to dampen our spirits.

Of course, I’m talking from my point of view as a person whose dislike of Christmas seems to grow stronger each year as my health begins to descend into the bowels of hell.  Oh dear, here I go again getting off the track of positivity into negativity.

Okay… I’ve up-righted myself again looking towards that horizon of eternal sunshine.  When I began blogging, around the time my husband began working overseas in Iraq and Afghanistan as a civilian, time was spent collecting cat and dog Christmas tree ornaments spurred on by the gift of a cat carrying plum pudding ornament given to me by my half-brother that December.

Can you imagine!  We quit buying real Christmas trees years before, and that one ornament caused me to buy a lovely cut metal tree three feet tall and over the next few years covering it with forty-six vintage cat and dog ornaments, mostly bought from Etsy sellers.  

Then I bought a second cut metal tree (WHAT!  ARE YOU CRAZY, LADY?) and filled it with forty-six more cat and dog ornaments.  Thankgoodness the availability of vintage ornaments began to dry up brfore... I'll let your imagination run away with that one.  During the time of downsizing, one was given away with me keeping the ornaments I loved most.

My Christmases were always spent pretty much alone, just me and my pets.  I decorated every room of the house, and as one entered the door there was never a question as to which holiday it was.  Now the fireplace, the fireplace that is never used, is where the extravagance exists.  A bit of fluff in the foyer, a wreath at the entrance of the hallway, and a few lovely decorations in my room that is especially for me… my writing room.

Although magical is nowhere in sight this Christmas, I still enjoy the peacefulness that overcomes me when I am alone in the late evening with the ‘mistletoe’ candle burning along side the fake ones that sparkle when twinkling.  If I’m lucky, I’ll be blessed with a lovely cat sprawled out on my lap enjoying snuggle-time.  I'm thinking nothing in these moments of quiet... just blissfull empty peace.  It's so refreshing before bedtime. 

In the heyday of decorating, Christmas was packed away for another year by my birthday, March 2.  Last year the anticipation of all that packing drudgery stretched it out to the middle of June.  All I can do is laugh about that one.  This New Year… I promise nothing.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

From the gang in the little yellow house

down at the end of the block.

We love you.

Yvonne and Vic,

Charlotte and Austin,

and

a little doggy named Dustin.

This post is linked to:

My Corner of the World

Saturday's Critters

Garden Bloggers' Bloom Day