trimmingthesails

Saluting the Solistice and December Days (Part 1)

The turning of the year ... right at the furthest arc away from our sun, and starting to travel back with the promise of longer days, and more light and warmth for those of us in the northern hemisphere. A hopeful moment!

Much to my surprise, I have found myself doing a December Days photobook, with a very simple format ...

... and enjoying putting it together very much. There are some pages with family photos which I won't be able to share (for privacy reasons) but the rest so far are looking like this:

Of all the days, it's the 19th which will stand out in my memory: the shock of realising mid-afternoon that all our family plans were upended. The cot, already prepared, will be standing empty; the pile of presents they sent on ahead of themselves for us, their parents and each other will sit here unopened and they will have none to share on Christmas Day; the food orders have had to be swiftly cancelled, and the cake and Christmas pudding so optimistically made will hardly feel worth cutting into for just the two of us. And, worse still, the grim news of the new virus strain, fears around its possible severity and transmission, anxieties about whether it will succumb to the vaccine, the terrible economic news, queues at ports, being cut off from the rest of the world and family overseas, and the real possibility of all of it continuing for months to come ... (And that's before the final Brexit exit, the shape of which is still unclear.) Somehow, we will have to dig deep, be grateful for what we have, do what we can for others and hold a steady tiller in these buffeting times! Sending you all warmest good wishes ... Alexa.

And it's December?

Wondering ... where did the year go? And yet, it seems an age. Time has both expanded and shrunk in dizzying and successive cycles, like the "Drink Me" potion in Alice in Wonderland. And with only a month to go, and huge uncertainties around lock-downs, tiers, Christmas and the steamroller of Brexit heading inexorably our way, I'm not sure that a new year is going to breeze in cheerily, saying "Hi, everyone, let's party!"

Grateful for ... the 25 Days of Gratitude Autumn Photo Challenge in November (thank-you so much, Deb!) to grab my attention and keep me focused a day at a time; in case you didn't seem my contributions on Instagram or the first six photos, I'm interweaving the rest of them here ...

Thinking about ... whether to do a December Daily. Or not. Probably the latter, though I'll keep a record of the month in my This is Life 2020 album. I'm not sure I have the energy for another project.

Marveling ... at how our little sixteen-month old granddaughter, now chattering away in a language all her own but with perfect intonation for exclamations and questions, knows how hang a bauble on a Christmas tree. The little video snippet popping into my phone shows her being passed a glass bauble; without a fumble, she slips her thumbs expertly into the little cord loop at the top to make it bigger, then steps back to look consideringly at the tree, before reaching up to slip it over the spiky end of a branch in a patch still bare of decoration, and says happily with a smile "Dere!" Sometimes I think she has been here before ...

Regretting ...having largely abandoned my Word for the Year in 2020 by April. Especially as it was 'vitality' and I could really have done with a super-dose of it.

Pondering ... a word for 2021. Nothing is moving clearly towards me yet, though I have a vague sense of what might be useful. Even as I type that, 'useful' seems such a dull adjective for something which is intended to be life-enhancing! Perhaps I'm just tired of peering into a foggy future, even if only a few days ahead, and weary of navigating uncertainty. Sometimes I think it would feel lovely to tie up at a port and just feel the world is steady for a while. Am I alone in this?

Enjoying ... a neat and tidy garden. I know. Little things. Usually, I completely miss the bulb-planting season, fail to clear up all the dead leaves before they become sodden and frosted, try not to go into the garden for a few months because my sins of omission depress me, and then feel miserable when Spring arrives because there is so much to do and it all needs doing at once. Some years ago on a frosty winter's day, we visited the wonderful Royal Horticultural Society garden at Harlow Carr near Harrogate, and I so admired their immaculate planting and perfectly forked-over soil that I became determined that we too, one year, would Get Ahead. This was the year: daffodils and tulips planted, bushes trimmed, flower-beds weeded and leaf-free, paths swept, and the lean-to we optimistically call the greenhouse tidy and organised.

Remembering ... my lovely Dad, a sensitive and erudite man, who died three years ago today. It seems appropriate to end this post with my 25th photo, with him and my wonderful Mum in its centre. Sending you all warmest good wishes, and hoping all is well with you and yours, x Alexa.