A Memory of Christmas Past

Christmas is by far my favorite time of the year. I get to wear sweaters, everyone tries to be a little nicer to each other, and I get two weeks off of work. I love singing Christmas carols, and seeing the pretty lights in my neighborhood.

I always looked forward to coming home for Christmas more than any other time of year. It was like driving into a neighborhood that was a little bit cheerier than the last time I saw it, transformed over Thanksgiving weekend. I would usually get home in the early evening and be welcomed by the familiar spreads on the neighbors lawns, then finally by the lights Mom had put on the bushes and in that spikey palm tree out front.

There was one year, 2004, when all of the hurricanes went through Orlando that Mom hadn't decorated when I got home from college. There were no lights on the bushes, our stockings hadn't been hung on the banister. Life got in the way of decorating for Christmas. I spent the first week of that break repainting the dining room and kitchen, and then we decorated. Everything was put up only a few days before Christmas. We contemplated just putting up a few things, but I couldn't stand the thought of having just the tree in the dining room with no little Christmas Village houses and no snowflakes hanging from the loft to keep it company. It was almost as though Christmas couldn't happen unless the house was ready for it.

This year the house has been decorated for a few weeks already. Mom demonstrated a Christmas tea, so she put everything up a little early. This weekend, though, marked one of the first times that we plugged the lights in. Christmas just arrived!

The Christmas Wish List 2008

The house on the next block has officially turned on enough Christmas lights to rival the Griswold's of National Lampoon's fame which means: it's time to publish the annual Christmas Wish List!

• a calendar (retro art nouveau or art deco poster reproductions or non-Ansel Adams black and white photography)
• a new watch (I'm pretty sure this one is already spoken for...)
  
• a new wallet
• The Tales of Beedle the Bard by J.K. Rowling
• Photoshop
• Leatherman Serac S3 Flashlight (because I work in a dark theatre. Also, I like toys.)
  

September Memories

Right around the time the fireflies quit blinking for the summer and the leaves began to change into their autumn attire, the apples in the small orchard on the hill were ready for picking. Early in September, the pastor's family would come out to the farm and help us pick apples. I'd spend the morning running around the base of the apple trees picking up the fallen fruit, then climbing around the baskets in the back of Dad's little black pickup truck.

Around lunch, when the truck was full and heavy, we'd drive back to the house wedged in between bushels of apples. We'd spend all afternoon cooking apples into lovely things: apple sauce, apple butter, apple pie. Us kids would take turns turning the crank and mashing the cooked apples into the machine. By the end of the day, everyone was tired and sweaty from being in a hot kitchen all afternoon, but we had fresh apple sauce and apple pie as a consolation.

Rain and Driving

It hasn't rained here in ages. At least, it feels like ages. See, we're used to daily afternoon rains this time of year, and they haven't come yet. The grass on the practice field is turning brown. The dust is accumulating its second layer on my poor white car. And it's hot. There is no respite from the sun's onslaught. So we Floridians retreat to our air-conditioned houses, and work places, and cars, not daring to spend too much time in the heat, lest we break a sweat and have to shower twice in one day.

I miss the rain, but I love the crystal clear afternoons. Driving home as the warm sun floods through my rear window. I like driving home in the afternoons. I might go so far as to say it's my favorite part of the day.

Springtime

It's beginning to feel very Spring-ish in this part of the country. As I locked up my classroom this evening the cool breeze carried the smell of growing things across my face. Grass, freshly churned dirt. I thought of the family of raccoons living under the portables behind the PAC and I wondered if they love this weather as much as I do. It seems odd that I haven't named them yet. I've been too busy to think about that kind of thing, I guess. Anyway, it's feeling Spring-ish. I'm sure that before too long, the Florida weather will turn again, and the heat will beat down on that freshly churned dirt.

This week has been gorgeous, in spite of what promises to follow. Weeks like this make me wish I lived my life in the sunshine, instead of in the deep shadow and bright lights of a theatre, or under the drab fluorescent tubes of my classroom. I can't help but think that I would be happier if I spent more time outdoors.

Today was a day for peaceful airy music played by a string quartet, for long hair left free to dance in the breeze, for jeans, a t-shirt, and a sun-kissed glow. I drove home with the window rolled down (except on the highway because that's not as aerodynamic and therefore less fuel efficient) thinking of the Tallahassee spring and the thick layer of pollen which turned my white car green for a several months in the year, and feeling the wind whip across my shoulders after going up the sleeve covering the arm draped out the window. Yes, I love Spring. It has so many possibilities. Memories, if they felt like anything physical, would feel like a cool breeze caressing my face on a Spring afternoon.

Christmas Wish List 2007

Wal-Mart has started playing Christmas music, which means: it's time to publish the annual Christmas Wish List! This is seriously a wish list. I don't really expect to get most of it.

• a laptop bag
• an Apple Wireless Mighty Mouse
• a digital camera
• Guitar Hero III
• Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix on DVD
• Stranger Than Fiction on DVD
• a drafting board (or something like it, you should talk to me...)
• a calender (with retro poster art or black and white photography)
• tools (pliers, side cutters, wrenches, a socket set, etc.)
• Photoshop

Finally, a Break

It's nearly Thanksgiving, yet it feels nothing like it. Sure, the weather has finally taken a turn towards chilly, and the darkness comes faster, but there is a definite lack of--well--something. Perhaps it's that I'm not examining my schedule to see if I can cut class on Wednesday in order to go home on Tuesday. I'm not making Thanksgiving plans. My life has been so consumed with everything else (and by "everything" I mean only one thing: work) that the thought of stopping and doing something other than think about the long list of things I have to do to get "A Christmas Carol" up by December 6 is ridiculous. On top of all that, I have to worry about fund raisers for International Thespians Society and registering for District Thespian competition at the end of next week.

Despite all of the stress and endless lists of things I have to do, I'm having fun. Each day I spend at work, the more I am convinced that I have to best job in the world. It has it's downsides, not the least of which are money and paperwork, but everything else is a blast. There are problems to solve, it's challenging mentally, physically, and emotionally. I'm being stretched as a person, and I'm loving it (in a non-McDonald's kind of way).

The Lamentable Reality of Fall in Orlando

Autumn captivates me. I love the leaves, how they turn from green to red and orange and yellow. I love the crisp air, and the first time it's cold enough to see your breath. I love scarves, and long sleeved T-shirts (I want to wear my Virginia Tech shirt without sweating!), and jeans. I love apples and all of the dishes that are made from them, apple pie, apple sauce, apple butter. I love football games with fans bundled up in sweatshirts, hats and scarves of matching colors (especially when those colors are garnet and gold and they're doing the tomahawk chop).

But I live in Orlando, in the state where old people go to escape the cold. I live where the leaves stay green through November, and the apples are trucked in from other states, and scarves are a fashion accessory and nothing more, and the wrong football team wins the games. I live where you can go swimming on Christmas if you really wanted to.

It hit 90 degrees on the Fall Equinox, and I was filled with jealousy because somewhere the leaves are falling. Just not here.