At last the anchor was up, the sails were set, and off we glided. It was a short, cold Christmas; and as the short northern day merged into night, we found ourselves almost broad upon the wintry ocean, whose freezing spray cased us in ice, as in polished armour. The long rows of teeth on the bulwarks glistened in the moonlight; and like the white ivory tusks of some huge elephant, vast curving icicles depended from the bows.
The Pequod, gliding off on Christmas day, shagged in ice.
It is the Fourth Sunday of Advent. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and I feel completely unprepared for everything. Gifts aren't wrapped. Poem isn't done. Music isn't rehearsed. Driveway isn't shoveled. I know Advent is supposed to be a time of preparation. I've always imagined these four Sundays as a loaf of Christmas dough that needs to rise for a month. It's almost time to bake now, and I feel like I've forgotten to add some ingredients.
Today, I should have spent writing. Having trouble getting my Christmas poem to come together. It's getting there, but it isn't done, and that makes me anxious. I actually was planning to write all afternoon. However, I decided to make some Christmas sugar cookies with my son instead. And it was worth it.
My son was throwing sprinkles and green sugar on the cookies. Pinching sprinkles and green sugar into his mouth. Warm cookies were coming out of the oven. My son looked at me and said, "This is the life! Making Christmas cookies with my daddy!" That was a great gift for me.
Tonight, I'm going to an event at a meditation/arts center in my home town. The place is called the Joy Center. It's owned by one of my oldest friends. We've known each other since the early 1990s, when we were in graduate school together. Helen is always full of positivity and uplift. Being around her always raises my spirits, even at very low times in my life. This evening, it's Dinner and a Movie. The dinner is potluck, and the movie is one of my favorite Christmas films. Joyeux Noel. I'm hoping to come away filled with some Yuletide spirit.
Those are my plans for this Fourth Sunday of Advent. This eve of Christmas Eve.
Saint Marty is thankful for his son tonight, who reminded him what Christmas is really all about.
You are living the life! Such a beautiful family.
ReplyDeleteMay the year ahead bring the many blessings you deserve.