Thursday, December 23, 2010

Amaryllis: "Blythe and gay"

I am having mixed feelings about Christmas.  I am alone in the house now and there is only the sound of rain.

  I have a few decorations in place and I have been humming Carols like a lunatic.  I think it is a kind of tic that I hum them all day long.  

 I come from  a family of singers, you see.  I do miss it if I don't participate or at least hear a concert at Christmas. My family could sing "Silent Night " in 4-part harmony.  That was part of our Christmas ritual when I was growing up so I would love to sing with someone.  But there is no one for singing.

 I just had a dear friend to stay for more than a week with all the joys and frustrations of that.   She was ill because of the trunk I left in the guest room which presumably still has mildew spores in it.  We took it out but too late for sinusitis not to develop for her. 

 Despite that, we had some good times.  We drank a glass of champagne at a wonderful old hotel in town that has a map of the world on the wall and we talked rot about dreams of traveling to exotic places.   We ate a fine meal in the sunshine and walked about all of Monday. We laughed a lot and loud. She fed me chocolates from our best shop!

 Then there came the rain and the devil of getting out of Nice to London with all the requisite phone calls to travel companies that don't answer, web sites that don't respond....  All the frantic calls from people who have been expecting her there in London for Christmas.

Aiuto!. I have just  had another avalanche of big rocks hitting behind the house . The sound is frightful.... the hill is falling by degrees!   I peek out the bathroom window:  The rocks are the size, this time, of breadboxes....whatever those are.    The rain has been falling steadily for a few days now and promises to continue until boxing day.  I cringe of hearing that sound again.

 My husband, stuck in London by the mess at Heathrow will be having a dinner celebration with friends on the 25th. I am happy that that is something for him to look forward to.  It is bitter cold there, he reports.  "No thanks". It is mild here.

  I will be hosting two girlfriends for Christmas.  I am not sure how they will get on... two different cultures. There will be us three.  I think it will be fine.  We will have a festive picnic.

  I have just listened to my little brother on NPR with Terry Gross reporting about the disaster of the US exporting its toxic wastes into third world countries... always a cheerful subject.  He is such a soldier for his cause though, that I am fiercely proud and relieved that there are people like him with a passion and drive to make the world a better place.  Still I am stuck feeling sad and not a little guilty of my  own inaction.

....but I have a home and a garden and Amaryllis in a vase, and the orange tree is giving its ripe fruit now and makes outstanding juice.    I will not say no to a generous splash of vodka with that.   Here's to Christmas.  Here's to you. Here's to a better world. 


  1. Thank you so much!
    What a Christmas story this is!
    Be safe!
    Merry Christmas!

  2. Oh Mary, Merry Christmas, your are witty, honest, resourceful.
    Salut with a glass of port in my hand to you!
    love Linda

  3. Je viens de lire ton blog. C'est un vrai plaisir de te lire. J'admire le sincérité et le charme qui s'en dégage, ton attention aux autres et aux choses qui t'entourent.
    Superbe aussi cette image, un vrai tableau. Matisse aurait aime. Happy Christmas,


  4. Thank you, my friends, and a happy Christmas to you too.