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Dec. 10th, 2004 06:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katallisonThings I have done in past Decembers while under the influence of the Christmassy Spirit, and which I will almost certainly not be doing this year:
--participated in the Sing-Along Messiah;
--baked and decorated many dozen cookies;
--made *fruitcakes*;
--strung lights up all over the outside of the house;
--used black electrician tape to make "panes" on the big front window, and then sprayed the white foam snow-looking stuff into the corner of each pane;
--made Spiced Beef, which requires ten days of prep time;
--made hand-decorated, calligraphied cards, and mailed them out to people *on time*;
--gone to The Mall and bought presents for the entire family;
--sat up all Solstice night, sundown to sunrise, around a bonfire in the woods outside Mendocino with a bunch of people, drumming and singing and drinking wine mulled over the fire;
--sung carols door to door with a gang of friends;
--sat naked in a sauna with a bunch of people, and then gone out and rolled in the snow, with Bach playing over the outdoor speakers;
--roasted chestnuts;
--made and bottled glogg;
--allowed a beloved friend to cook lutefisk *in my house* (ack! ptooooieee!).
Things I will yet do this December:
--buy, put up, and decorate a balsam;
--finish my goddamned hideous![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ds_seekritsanta story;
--finish buying presents for Mr. P.;
--stress mightily about not having bought enough/the right presents for Mr. P.;
--make a nice Christmas night dinner for the two of us;
--sit up alone on Christmas Eve, listening to Perotin and Anonymous 4, getting tipsy and maudlin and thinking about Time Passing, and the death of the year, and those I loved who are no longer among us.
When I was a child, Christmas was a delirious saturnalia of presents, stuff, wheeee!!!. When I was a young woman, I was diligent about establishing and maintaining the rituals that marked some kind of specialness in this commercialized harried overloaded turning-point of the year; I even used at times to imagine I was creating traditions that I'd have and observe for the rest of my life.
But now that I'm getting old ... well, the days dwindle down to a precious few, and so do the observances that I take the trouble to continue. With time, it's much more about the inward-and-spiritual stuff, rather than the outward-and-visible. I still cherish this darkest time of year, the bleak midwinter (though, granted, the coldest and bleakest days are yet to come). Though I've never been a Christian, it remains a special time, for reasons both cultural and cosmological. And I love to hear about how all my younger and springier friends out there choose to celebrate in their own ways--traditional, quirky, joyous, hassled, solitary, in the bosom of family, religious, pagan, or whatever.
--participated in the Sing-Along Messiah;
--baked and decorated many dozen cookies;
--made *fruitcakes*;
--strung lights up all over the outside of the house;
--used black electrician tape to make "panes" on the big front window, and then sprayed the white foam snow-looking stuff into the corner of each pane;
--made Spiced Beef, which requires ten days of prep time;
--made hand-decorated, calligraphied cards, and mailed them out to people *on time*;
--gone to The Mall and bought presents for the entire family;
--sat up all Solstice night, sundown to sunrise, around a bonfire in the woods outside Mendocino with a bunch of people, drumming and singing and drinking wine mulled over the fire;
--sung carols door to door with a gang of friends;
--sat naked in a sauna with a bunch of people, and then gone out and rolled in the snow, with Bach playing over the outdoor speakers;
--roasted chestnuts;
--made and bottled glogg;
--allowed a beloved friend to cook lutefisk *in my house* (ack! ptooooieee!).
Things I will yet do this December:
--buy, put up, and decorate a balsam;
--finish my goddamned hideous
ds_seekritsanta story;--finish buying presents for Mr. P.;
--stress mightily about not having bought enough/the right presents for Mr. P.;
--make a nice Christmas night dinner for the two of us;
--sit up alone on Christmas Eve, listening to Perotin and Anonymous 4, getting tipsy and maudlin and thinking about Time Passing, and the death of the year, and those I loved who are no longer among us.
When I was a child, Christmas was a delirious saturnalia of presents, stuff, wheeee!!!. When I was a young woman, I was diligent about establishing and maintaining the rituals that marked some kind of specialness in this commercialized harried overloaded turning-point of the year; I even used at times to imagine I was creating traditions that I'd have and observe for the rest of my life.
But now that I'm getting old ... well, the days dwindle down to a precious few, and so do the observances that I take the trouble to continue. With time, it's much more about the inward-and-spiritual stuff, rather than the outward-and-visible. I still cherish this darkest time of year, the bleak midwinter (though, granted, the coldest and bleakest days are yet to come). Though I've never been a Christian, it remains a special time, for reasons both cultural and cosmological. And I love to hear about how all my younger and springier friends out there choose to celebrate in their own ways--traditional, quirky, joyous, hassled, solitary, in the bosom of family, religious, pagan, or whatever.