I am getting to be such a stick-in-the-mud that I am really glad it is clear and dry today. It was last year that cured me of longing for a white Christmas. All of us Portlanders are happier with the idea of snow than the actuality. Last year, the week before Christmas was all about snow, with an ice layer sandwiched in. The scene below is our front walk.
The snow was so deep and impassible (to us Portlanders) that it stayed beautiful, pure, and white all week. We all had a very quiet time, being unable to dash about doing pre-Christmas parties and preparations. I skied around the neighborhood and we trudged up to the Little Store for supplies (see Nov. 11 entry). Neighbors greeted each other cheerfully and commiserated.
I was to sing on Christmas Eve, as usual, but there was no way I would be driving our little car through the deep ruts. Some dear friends had planned a Christmas Eve party and were determined we should be there. Heroically Peter careened across the frozen city to fetch us, took me to sing later on, and brought us home again. It was both a blessing and an adventure.
This year there will be no difficulty getting to church to sing. When I return to my car after midnight, with the bells ringing out over the city, I will not worry about reaching home safe and sound. That will be a blessing!
No comments:
Post a Comment