I have been writing a post in June every year on the day I moved into the nest. I always write that I love my nest and am ambivalent about the Hood. It's still true. I love my nest. I never get tired of just sitting and looking around. It's all beautiful and filled with objects that are loaded with meaning and memory.
I am still ambivalent about the Hood with a few exceptions.
I love the Christmas parade.
The mommie died a few days before Thanksgiving. November is a bad month, full of sadness and memory swarms. Thanksgiving, which used to be my favorite holiday, is a dark day for me. Partly because of the swarms and partly because I love to cook for people. In my young adult life I cooked huge meals for all the orphans in town. Even smaller dinners were fun for me. But I don't have the stamina to cook for days. Most of what I cook now happens on top of the stove. Hot and fast.
So I crawl through November but as soon as possible, after Thanksgiving is over, I like to decorate.
A few years ago I was looking for a tree and just couldn't find one. I don't have a lot of space. They were all too tall, too wide. Just not gonna work. We went to the local garden store, knowing that they probably didn't have cut trees but they did have live ones in big buckets ready to be planted. And there was a perfect tree. That began the tradition of buying a live one, enjoying it for the holly-daze and then planting it in a friend's back yard. It is more expensive but it feels great. The trees last longer inside and, so far, grow well once they are planted.
Most of them are in one particular friend's yard. Last year, a woman with whom I'd had a pleasant casual friendship in the pool, mentioned being sad because she'd lost two trees from her yard. One from illness and the other because of a problem with the roots. I told her about my new Christmas tree tradition and offered her the one from that year. It was all pretty fun. I texted her pictures of the tree when it was decorated. She and her husband came to pick it up and we chatted. They sent me pictures of it planted. Her husband is a jazz guy. We named it, Miles.
A short time later she sent me a long text telling me she went to OA (over eaters anonymous) and asking if I wanted to join. She wrote this in a relatively passive way but the assumption that she had any idea about how much I eat irritated me. I wrote a fairly terse no and she didn't ask why. When we saw each other at the pool I was not as open and I think she might have felt a bit tenuous. In the year that followed we didn't talk as much. Once in a while she would mention that the tree was doing well. Sad.
Sort of.
I have a crazy amount of ornaments. My friend does all the work putting them on the tree while I tell stories about them. Like so many things in my world many of the decorations are the mommie's. Many are things I would not have purchased. And I love them now. She had a small Christmas village. It sits on the shelf above my head as I type.
On what would be her last Christmas my friend helped me put the village up on her window sill. Before I left I told her she didn't need to unplug them. They were like a night light. When she came back from dinner some of the ladies joined her and there was an impromptu party in her room. I was always hoping she'd be more social so I was really happy to hear about it when I called to say good night.
She was too worried to leave them on. She couldn't find the plugs so she ripped out the bulbs, breaking most of them. When she turned around she fell. She was covered in back and blue marks and had a small skin tear. I get weepy when I think about it.
All the memories aren't good. But I don't need them to be.
I live on the main street in down town Hood River. There are a few times a year when it gets blocked off. In the summers on first Fridays. Halloween and for the Christmas parade. First Fridays are OK. Halloween is really fun. All the shops hand out candy. In the early evening there are lots of kids. So much cuteness. And I love the Christmas parade. It's a time when the Hood is most like a small town. Local businesses make sweet little floats. Fire trucks and cop cars are covered in lights. Santa shows up at the end tossing small bags of candy. It all ends at the bottom of the hill. They light a tree one block up. I can't see that part but I do get to sit in my chair and watch the parade.
Last year my friend found the perfect huge wreath for my little balcony. When the tree is up my window is full of light. I have a few Christmas plates. I have Santa pins for my coat. I have a mix of Christmas music by artists I love. I shop like a maniac. I get sad and feel lonely but not like I do in November. And then it's a new year.
I think about moving away from the Hood but I don't really want to leave my nest. And moving about kicked my ass the last time. Not sure I can do it again. So I'm kind of a cranky, judgy old lady sulking in my nest ... but not when the Christmas parade is passing by.