For the first time ever I went to see the Gingerbread Villages displayed at the Sheraton in downtown Seattle each holiday season. It made me sorry I haven’t got there till now. I almost didn’t make it this year. Saturday I went downtown to do it and the line and crowds overwhelmed me and I left. Today it wasn’t crowded and most of the people there seemed to be from preschools and daycare centers. The young children added to the sense of fun, and it was easy to see over their heads for a good view.
Each “village” is based on a song. The details in each were both fun and amazing.
I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Home for Christmas-Seattle
Lake Union Detail
Seattle Underground-Money going down the drain.
Home, Sweet Home for the Holidays.
O Little Town of Bethlehem
Star of Wonder
No Room at the Inn
O Little Town of Bethlehem-how sweet we see thee lie!
O Christmas Tree
High Up Hawks Fan
O Christmas Tree
A Special Gift
Santa and the Mrs. in the Sun.
Most of my life I have lived in this picture. It is my personal ground zero.
Another metaphor: which way do we go? Ginger wants to head north, Sammie wants to head south. Both directions have good things to smell, jack rabbits to chase. How do we choose?
For me either direction is fine…so long as we all go in the same direction. As long as we are leashed together we need to add that component to any decision, or we will wind up wrapped inelegantly around the creosote bush. The way we generally choose is whichever dog pulls the hardest picks the path.
This often happens in my life. I am more about process than direction. I can see the advantages and disadvantages to both sides and I get pulled along in whatever direction someone else wants to go, usually working as hard as I can to keep us from getting tangled up in leashes and creosote bushes.
This past year I traveled to Desert Hot Springs, California 6 times. My grandmother lives there. I flew round trip in January to take my grandmother to have a kidney stone removal procedure…the second procedure that didn’t work. I flew down in March to be there for her birthday, then drive home with my father who had spent a month or so down in the Palm Springs area. I drove round trip in July to bring grandma (plus dog, Ginger) up to Seattle to visit family during the hottest part of the year. Another driving round trip to take her back in late August. Two more flying trips this fall, the first to check on her after she came out of rehab for a broken arm and the second because my uncle was dying.
I feel a bit like I am wrapped around the creosote bush. The question is not just which way to go, but how to untangle myself first. Do I cut the leashes and not worry about the others (or, perhaps more accurately, worry but try not to care overmuch) or patiently (or not so patiently) untangle things? Once free, I need to figure out which way to go.
The cat looks as if she is trying to catch Santa in the act. But really she is watching the bird feeder. Is this a metaphor for the Christmas season? I wonder sometimes about how we value belief in something we know is not real. What drives us?
It must be pretty important since we, as a society work so hard to keep up the Santa Claus type magic at Christmas idea. Families will go into debt and do without basics the rest of the year to keep up the idea that magic can happen.
In my family we always had Christmas stockings as a special thing, in some ways it was the most special, as we came of age we shared in stuffing stockings and it was a creative and fun part of the holiday. thinking of something that would fit into the stockings (ours were not as over-sized as those on the market today) that would intrigue or delight the recipient. That was not my husband’s family tradition and he rarely puts anything into stockings. So when our son went off and in years we are alone the only thing in my stocking was the candy, nuts and orange that I put in all the stockings. Even though I knew there would be nothing, knew there was plenty for me elsewhere, and that I am greatly loved, I still felt a little sad and neglected that first time. The last few years I have resisted the urge to fill my own stocking so I wouldn’t have to go into the kitchen and check on breakfast while everyone else was opening their stocking. This year it will be just the two of us here on Christmas morning, I think we will skip putting stockings up altogether. Sacrilege!
Xingfu means happy and blessed in Chinese. Even though 2014, the year I started this blog, was a busy and, at times, difficult year that is the word I thought of for this space. Mama not because I have many children but because I seem to fall into a caregiving role. Sometimes I feel like Mama to the world.
The name XingfuMama means Happy Mama with undertones of being blessed.