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Today–December 14, 2021

December 15, 2021

           Today, gusts of rain, finches lined up at the feeders, Allen’s Hummingbird guarding his nectar and looking a little out of season in his orange regalia.  I’m baking brownies, as much for the heat and heart of the oven as for the get-together later today with my writing friends.  It is almost the end of the second season of COVID19.  We’ve been through much of the Greek alphabet and are currently on Omicron—highly contagious, but we continue to hope, perhaps less virulent and the beginning of the end of the plague. 

            Earlier, Tashi and I scrambled to the neighborhood park—me shivering and encouraging an acceleration of her elimination routine—her attempting to humor me by running the half-hearted run of an eight-year-old dog who would prefer her cozy bed by the fireplace. 

            My outdoor decorations for Christmas this year are one half-lit reindeer and sad laser lights from three projectors that make the house and foliage sparkle red and green, one providing light-sourced Christmas trees that revolve slowly around the door.  I am 75, why chance osteoporotic disasters with ladders and tangled strings of lights?  Still, I wish I had already trimmed some pine branches and white sage to adorn the mantle and scent the house before this wild wet windstorm. Outside the giant Toyon, California Holly Berry, purported source of the name of our famous Hollywood has provided lush green foliage and bright red berries that also have not made it to the mantle.  This year, depending on the wind, they may not. 

            My indoor tree is a fake 2.5 foot Home Depot model with gold snowflakes and old dollar store poinsettias with white lights set up on a table in the front window so folks might think it is the top of a much bigger tree.  Maybe if the wind stops blowing icy rain I can stop for a fresh-cut or better, a living pine, the later to find its way to the planted-after-each-Christmas forest my son has established in his inner-city backyard.  They grow rapidly and even his small contribution must contribute to some breathable air.  I’ve written a page.  Alexa’s alarm and the scent of hot chocolatey brownies pull me up from my reverie at the computer.  I smile and find myself feeling a rare anticipatory happiness. I will soon be among friends.

3 Comments
  1. judyreeveswriter permalink

    I loved reading this, Barb, after hearing you speak it at our session yesterday. Favorite phrase: “I am 75, why chance osteoporotic disasters with ladders and tangled strings of lights?” Also, did not know Hollywood was named for the California Holly Berry. See what I learn when I hang around with you.

  2. many find relief in small quirky happenings…..no need of grand drama and rumors of war.. when house is sanctified and cozy

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