Christmas 2008

The older I get the more appreciative I become of well-worn, familial traditions.

I The Kilarski mirror/shelf


When I was a little boy, my Mother's kin celebrated Christmas with a Christmas Eve party. The party was hosted by a different aunt and uncle each year, such that every third year it was our turn. I am confident these parties have merged into a single memory of one long night of German song, home-cooked food, fathers waltzing with their daughters, and uncles filming the festivities with Super 8 film.

I suppose one's own childhood memories are never wholly supplanted by the memories of one's adulthood. Indeed, the early morning exuberance of Arianna bounding into our bedroom and announcing that Santa had come during the night are now as precious to me as the vision of Oma and my Father dancing and singing together at Uncle Fabian's house.

And so another Christmas comes and goes amidst the tearing of Christmas wrapping paper, of Bruno patting bows on his head, of Aunt Myra's and Uncle Lester's arrival at the house, Greg's return for yet another plate of food, and the after dinner card playing of the men in the basement.

II We wake to stuffed stockings


No 4x6 glossy photograph, no frame of video, no words I could ever set down -- and I have tried in earnest -- can ever embody the sights and sounds we experience on Christmas.

Nor can our words of praise and thanksgiving ever fully articulate the fullness of our hearts to the One whose gift to us gives us hope eternal.

And still we try . . . and still I try . . . .


III Toys from Iowa



IV A skirt from Oma



V Clothes from Uncle Greg and Aunt Ronda in California


VI Grandpa opens his gift from Bruce, Laurie, and his Grandkids in Iowa



VII Santa even brought something for Samantha



VIII Another gift from Santa



IX Nancy Drew! Thanks, Aunt Kay!



X Another gift from Oma



XI Oh . . . Thank you, Aunt Laurie!



XII Something from Arianna



XIII Something from Arianna and Daddy



XIV Thank you, Mommy!

Christmas Eve

Awoke to 6" of wet, heavy snow.

I View from the street


II Looking east toward Lake Sharon, aka 'the pond'


III Goldenrod in the backyard


IV Looking at the northeast corner of the backyard


As the family rose to greet the morning, I finished my oatmeal, dressed myself appropriately, and went outside to clear the driveway.

Two hours later I re-entered the kitchen soaking wet: undershirt, shirt, sweater, and coat. Although a 'good sweat' is often considered a remedy for a cold, I found it to be quite the contrary. And so into a hot tub I went.

Christmas Eve is traditionally a day of final preparations. This year was no exception. Bruno spent much of the day in the kitchen, chopping onions for the pyrogie, chopping chicken gizzards for the bird's stuffing, making chicken soup. Despite the cold outside, all the windows were steamed up. Needless to say, the aroma throughout the house was tasty.

Oddly enough all the gift wrapping was finished. So, I was free to malinger much of the day.

Sharon and Arianna busied themselves with fine china, silverware, and tablecloths, as well as the relish tray and other culinary delights.

As the sun began to set and all our chores completed, we gathered for our traditional Christmas Eve fare: homemade chicken noodle soup.

After supper Arianna and I dressed for the 7 o'clock Vigil Mass at St. Catherine of Siena. Like last year, we volunteered to be greeters and so we left the house a good thirty minutes before Mass.

Mass was well-attended. And, this year the music was beautiful: organ, flute, and a female vocalist.

Although I have come to eschew over-the-counter cold remedies, on the way home from Mass I dragged Arianna to Walgreens for any relief in a bottle I could find. I think this is the first time in my entire life I'd ever been in a store after 8 p.m. on Christmas Eve. Frankly, it was kinda pathetic seeing folks inspecting packages of toys. But, we all have unique stories, and I am grateful that I needn't be scouring the aisles of Walgreens for stocking stuffers on December 24.

Due to the lateness of our return, before putting Arianna to bed, we relaxed in front of the Christmas tree and snacked on Christmas cookies. Although Arianna had planned to stay up all night and present Santa his plate of carrots and cookies in person, she abandoned the idea in favor of a more prudent course of action: to go to bed and get a good night's sleep.

V Awaiting Mr. C's return

100 months old

Sunny, bitter cold -3 F today (Compared to -8 F, with a driving wind yesterday. A veritable heat wave!!)

Arianna is 100 months old today!

And what a day to celebrate: Winter has (finally) begun, and the house is abuzz with final Christmas preparations.

I Candlestick maker



II Er, makers



III Advice and learning


Phone conversations mit mein Vetter: Karl, Carl, and Kurt. An email message from Solingen, too. Although an off year for Christmas cards, communications keep coming.

Longest Commute: Redux

Ol' Tom Skilling and Co. forcast the snow to begin tonight. Instead it started to fall around 11 o'clock this morning. By 3 o'clock is was coming down steady, so I pack up my things and headed home.

It took me 1 hour to drive a mile! All told I was on the road for just about 4 hours. Imagine that . . . I bested my previous time . . . in a manner of speaking.

So what does one do while snaking along Euclid Avenue from Northbrook to Palatine? Sings Christmas carols, of course!

Sharon collected Arianna from school after lunch. She has a fever; sinus infection. She's adamant that she'll be well for Friday's class Christmas party. I hope so.

The tree is trimmed, the greeting cards are in the mail, and Sharon, Bruno, and Arianna have started to bake.

What?

Not I?

Too many cooks, er bakers . . . don't you know.

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With all the work that's being accomplished -- at home and at the office -- it hardly seems as if the year's end is fast approaching.

Visit from Santa

After weeks of talking about going to see Bolt, we finally got around to it this afternoon. And, Arianna was not especially happy with the film.

The drive home from the theater and throughout the early evening Sharon and I tried to explain that sometimes our expectations get the better of us.

Had it not been for the distant sound of a fire engine, I think we'd have wallowed in the disappointment of Bolt all evening long. But, as luck would have it, this evening was Santa's annual journey through Sleepy Hollow.

I Arianna awaits Santa


II Arianna chats with Santa

Baking

Quiet day.

The house was filled with the wonderful aroma of Christmas.

I Baking ginger bread cookies


II Baking ginger bread cookies


III Baking ginger bread cookies


IV Baking ginger bread cookies

Longest Commute

Rain turning to snow.

It took me more than 3 1/2 hours to drive 26 miles this evening. For most of the way home from work I was driving 5 miles an hour! All the while listening to radio commentary about our illustrious governor's being hauled to jail in handcuffs.

When I finally got home, Arianna was already in bed.

One

Cold, grey, snowy day.

Perfect day for trimming the Christmas tree. -The earliest date in December on which we've ever done this.

I Examining the string of lights . . .




II Close work to set things aglow



III Portrait of a Father as a Lamp Post



IV Hanging ornaments on the tree



V Hanging ornaments on herself



VI Sharon and her Dad inspect our progress



VII Mele Kalikimaka



VIII Stretch goal



Of course I couldn't begin stringing lights until after I shoveled snow. -The first of the season.

First Snow

December 1, 2008.

View from the driveway - 5:50 a.m.