Walking In A West Coast Wonderland
In recent days, I've found myself drawn to large public squares where there are Christmas trees and children squeaking out holiday music with their middle school bands. I'm craving apple cider on a daily basis. I made bread. It's fair to say that I have a bit of holiday fever.
On mild, rainy California days like today, I notice I'm reminiscing about my snowy childhood Christmases. So many memories flood back, as though they've been programmed to reappear every year at this time. My dad would make a crazy sled route on the back hill for us, so we could use our saucer sleds. (They were the best sleds because you could get someone to spin you as you took off!) My mom would bake this bread recipe she inherited from her mother, whose own mother brought it from Slovenia before the turn of the century. And my brother and I would run around, playing all sorts of made up games in several feet of snow, until it got dark. Then, we would clamber inside, banging boots and scarves and mittens on the side of the house before entering. We'd peel off our wet jackets and snowpants and sit by the fire my dad had built. We'd eat delicious wintertime food and watch cartoon Christmas specials.
As bedtime approached, it was cold in the house, so I would wear my robe and fluffy slippers (which is, incidentally, what I am wearing right now). I'd sit, propped on my knees, leaning over the back of the couch, looking out of the huge picture window in our living room. Our backyard would be glowing, the large oak and maple trees coated with the newly fallen snow. The moon glinted off of it, making the world sparkle.
It's seems like such cheesy thing to say, but when I look back on that time, it really was like magic. So much snow and love and food. The warmth I felt, though it was so very cold outside, is something I will always carry with me.
So, when this holiday time of year rolls around, something in my body clock recognizes that this is the time for hot cider, sledding, and family. And I spend hours daydreaming about that childhood time when nothing seemed scary and everything was soft and white and full of sparkles.
On mild, rainy California days like today, I notice I'm reminiscing about my snowy childhood Christmases. So many memories flood back, as though they've been programmed to reappear every year at this time. My dad would make a crazy sled route on the back hill for us, so we could use our saucer sleds. (They were the best sleds because you could get someone to spin you as you took off!) My mom would bake this bread recipe she inherited from her mother, whose own mother brought it from Slovenia before the turn of the century. And my brother and I would run around, playing all sorts of made up games in several feet of snow, until it got dark. Then, we would clamber inside, banging boots and scarves and mittens on the side of the house before entering. We'd peel off our wet jackets and snowpants and sit by the fire my dad had built. We'd eat delicious wintertime food and watch cartoon Christmas specials.
As bedtime approached, it was cold in the house, so I would wear my robe and fluffy slippers (which is, incidentally, what I am wearing right now). I'd sit, propped on my knees, leaning over the back of the couch, looking out of the huge picture window in our living room. Our backyard would be glowing, the large oak and maple trees coated with the newly fallen snow. The moon glinted off of it, making the world sparkle.
It's seems like such cheesy thing to say, but when I look back on that time, it really was like magic. So much snow and love and food. The warmth I felt, though it was so very cold outside, is something I will always carry with me.
So, when this holiday time of year rolls around, something in my body clock recognizes that this is the time for hot cider, sledding, and family. And I spend hours daydreaming about that childhood time when nothing seemed scary and everything was soft and white and full of sparkles.
posted by Bert at 9:18 PM
2 Comments:
it's funny, but last night i was watching out our dining room window while the snow was falling gently and i was recalling those same types of memories of my childhood. this time of year indeed does seem to make one recall all of those happy memories of youth. isn't it wonderful to reflect on that...and to look forward to creating memories with our *new* families??
girl, you need to get yourself a southwest flight for this weekend. we have plenty of snow on the ground and we are going to tour the holiday decorations at the frank lloyd wright house and then get our xmas tree this weekend.
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