Breaking Up Christmas Again

                                                    

The tree comes down today, per my grandmother's injunction that it must be out of the house before the New Year or bad luck will ensue.  

I find that I'm both sorry to see it go--it's quite pretty-- and eager to move on to the less cluttered look for the New Year.

                                                      

Dismantling the tree and putting away the ornaments will take most of the day--fortunately our New Year's Eve plans are pretty modest--a bottle of bubbly well before midnight and so to bed.

Tomorrow there will be collard greens and black-eyed peas, along with the pork marinated in mojo (garlic, orange juice, lemon juice, salt, and oregano) that is simmering in the slow cooker and perfuming the house right now. 

I'm not sorry to say goodbye to 2023 and its heartbreaking humanitarian crises around the globe. May 2024 see some improvement.

                                                 

Breaking Up Christmas?

I find myself faced with something of an existential dilemma. For the fifty-nine years we've been married, I have adhered to my grandmother's tradition of getting the tree out of the house before the new year.  A fairly sensible tradition with a real tree that is daily getting to be more and more a fire hazard. 

But a niece of mine is in town, visiting her daughter, my great niece, and they are coming out for a visit (and some collards and black-eyed peas for luck) on New Year's Day.

'I kinda hate it they won't get to see the tree,' I told John, 'It's so pretty. And I'll have to really push to get all the ornaments put away before-'

'So leave it up. Take it down on Monday.'

I was surprised to find how very much I didn't want to break with this long-standing tradition. Did I really believe that leaving the tree up another day would bring bad luck? Or was this tradition simply a way of remembering my grandmother?

  After wrestling with this problem a bit, I decided to remove one ceremonial ornament . . .

And to cut off a token piece of the tree and take it outside.  Silly, yes, but it made me feel better. And perhaps it's a good thing not to let tradition or superstition stand in the way of common sense and hospitality.

But come Monday, out it goes! 

                                                                                      

Breaking Up Christmas Again

Old time fiddle tune--Breaking Up Christmas

When I went out to fill the birdfeeder yesterday morning, the balmy air and the budding quince made the red bows and Christmas greenery on the porch look sad and tawdry and so over. 

Inside was the same. And although I traditionally take down the tree on New Year's Eve and leave out most of the red and green and Christmas-related decor, I was ready for a clean sweep and began breaking up Christmas.

I made a good start and by this evening, the red and green will have been replaced by blue and yellow and the naked tree will be out the door, per my grandmother's injunction about avoiding bad luck. The lights will stay up a few more months to get us through the darkness. 

I took a break for a necessary trip to the grocery store for collards and black-eyed peas. And there were yellow primroses that smelled of Spring in the flower department.

Onward to the New Year!

 

More Books . . .

More books -- someone (Mario? Carolyn? Jayna?) recommended News of the World and I put it on my wish list. I also asked for Gaiman's Instructions -- which I'd had briefly and given away. And I look forward to learning about Pratchett's Discworld from the beginning in The Color of Magic. Baby Signs was a gift to Josie's staff so I'll  have a go at teaching the two of us some simple signing.

But all the post Christmas reading has been put on hold briefly. Yesterday John announced that it was going to be Very Cold by Saturday and, as the Christmas tree was blocking the heater in the living room, perhaps we ought to take it down rather than wait for my traditional New Year's Eve breaking up Christmas.

I always enjoy the leisurely putting away of the ornaments, taking time to remember the origin of each -- the little wooden angel the homeroom mothers gave us in 8th grade, the glass ornaments that were my mother's, the little porcelain bells from John's grandparents, the garish pink and blue ball that is the sole survivor of a set John sold my parents  back in our senior year of high school. (One of those 'projects' undertaken by the service club he belonged to.) 

There are the ornaments we made for my grandparent's last tree, ornaments made by our boys and by other children's hands, ornaments that were special gifts, ornaments that remind me of those gone . . .

I lingered over one in particular this year -- made back when my Girl Scout troop personalized ornaments with glue and glitter -- a faded blue glass ball with straggling letters that say SKIP. 

Goodbye, Christmas

The cold last day of the year

And I put away the ornaments,

Pack up the Nativities,

Return the Santas to the old trunk

And, as my grandmother taught,

Make sure that the tree is out of the house

Before the New Year comes in.

It's Time . . .

The Chinese gold fish looks apprehensive . . .

The Starfish Sunbather seems to say "Oh, nooo!"

Even this Peruvian Holy Family seems worried about the coming change.

But I'm unmoved. It's the last day of the year and, in keeping with family tradition that says the tree must be out of the house before the New Year or there'll be bad luck, I'm dutifully un-decorating and getting it out the door.

In the kitchen the black eyed-peas are cooking for the Hoppin' John, and the collards are simmering with the hog jowl. More folk magic for good luck in the coming year.

With all the help I had getting the tree decorated, I missed saying hello to some of my favorite ornaments . . . but now, as I slowly disassemble the tree, I get to enjoy each one even as I pack them away.

This goat came from the Carl Sandburg house in Flat Rock -- did you know that his wife Lillian was an acclaimed goat breeder and a small herd of goats is still on the property? The goat carries a lot of memories -- I bought in when I was in Flat Rock at a literary festival and it was there that I met Sharyn McCrumb and Tony Early.

Another goat -- a Scandinavian Yule goat-- and another pagan survival -- like the Christmas tree itself.

This patchwork ornament is new this year, a gift from my sister-in-law Fay -- just look at that embroidery and those sequins! And the donkey is new as well -- from Claui's folks in honor of our own Kate the Donkey.

It's always hard, putting these pretties away -- but then it's always such a pleasure to rediscover them when next Christmas rolls around.

See you next year!