A Quiet Christmas

Here it is Boxing Day.  The turkey leftovers are stowed in the fridge; the stock is made for soup; there is a lot of leftover stuffing and gravy, and there are way too many sweet things in the house. When I was young the Christmases were huge, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins in the large house that had a staircase at each end so we kids could run up one stair across the upper floor and down the other stair shrieking and laughing.  I'm sure we drove the adults crazy.

In my late teens and early twenties we were adopted by my aunt's family and it wasn't unusual to have twenty or twenty five people for Christmas dinner. My uncle just kept extending the table with sheets of plywood. Some years we had skits and often we sang carols around the piano. For a couple of years we celebrated Christmas with Richard's sister and, again, there was a full house.

This year there were three of us. We made ragged music, stayed in our pj's as long as we wanted, watched old movies and laughed often and long. The size of the group has changed but the music and laughter remain as does the sense that this day is out of time, a day to set aside the regular routines, a day to pause, as the ancients did, and look forward to the return of the light which remains a few minutes longer each day. In the Christian tradition it is a time to celebrate hope, peace, joy and love qualities that our battered world sorely needs. As I prepare to pick up the regular routines once again it is with the sense that I have taken time to celebrate, reflect and rest so that each day I can take small steps to meet the returning light.

Looking Ahead

It's Christmas once again and the time between Christmases seems to be getting shorter and shorter.  I always take some time to think back to other Christmases and to look ahead.  June of 2016 will mark the completion of my eighth year of retirement and I can feel my focus sharpening.  I've tried all kinds of things in the last seven and a half years and the thing I look forward to more  than anything is woodworking.  I've gone headfirst into activities before and then gradually abandoned them.  For a while it was canoeing, then cycling; then running. I don't know how long woodworking will hold my attention but, at the moment, I want to learn everything I can and become as skilled as I can.

Nothing gives me more pleasure than being able to make an object for someone to appreciate and use. One of my repeat customers told me that, having received one of my ornaments last Christmas, her mother-in-law wants to collect enough of them to decorate her whole tree.  I grin inwardly when I imagine a Christmas tree in Nova Scotia  made beautiful by my ornaments.  Some of my boxes have ended up in Africa and several people have told me that they still use the pens I made for them several years ago. All of this gives me a tremendous sense of satisfaction.

In our society money signifies importance. In truth, I would work wood without getting any money for it but there's a certain amount of validation that comes when people, not only express verbal appreciation, but willingly exchange money for something I have created. Recently I opened a bank account so I can take credit cards. I have two goals for the account: I want to generate enough income to pay the wonderful person we have hired to clean our house every two weeks. Neither one of us is particularly disciplined about cleaning and it's a delight to have the whole house clean all at once and on a regular basis.  My second goal is to make my hobby self-supporting. I have a credit card I use only for woodworking supplies and educational materials and I'd like to be able to pay it off each month using the woodworking account.  I feel a little like I did when I got my first job, excited and a bit apprehensive.  I'm very glad that I don't have to depend on my woodworking skills to put food on the table.  In teaching I exchanged my time and skill for wages.  In this venture I exchange the works of my hands for money and I want those works to be ambassadors for what is beautiful and cherished in this world.

I believe each of us has a responsibility to make our own small corner of the world a little bit better.  I hope the things I craft will make someone's life a tiny bit easier or more pleasant. I'll keep you posted as my life after teaching continues to unfold. I wish each of you a Merry Christmas and health, contentment, and good fortune in 2016.