On the Third Day of Christmas...

We Armstrongs celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas. We set our tree up later than others, we celebrate a long time, and we take our tree and our Christmas decorations down after Twelfth Night: January 6th.

So, in effect, our family celebration just keeps on going and going, from Big Family Christmas in Oklahoma (the weekend before December 25th) through January 6th. Sounds over the top, but if you glance over your shoulder at all your neighbors who put their Christmas tree up on Thanksgiving?? Puh-lease. We are allowed our Twelve Days. And we take them, merrily.

Here is MY Christmas gift!

See the cello over in the corner? Over beyond the granite Treble Clef carved by my father some years ago...beyond the bougainvillea wintering over by the piano...just past the piano music for "Simple Gifts"...it's my new (very old) cello!

College Grad Claire asked for her cello, which I have been playing for the past two years, and so what was I to do? We have looked since last summer for a cello for me (or her), between here in rural Kansas (not too many cellists in my neck o' the Tall Grass Prairie) and west to Denver, east to Saint Louis...South to Tulsa. Just nothing that called my name. Or Claire's.

Last month when that Spouse o' Mine and I made our fun trek to Virginia to visit Claire, we hauled her cello with us (gamely putting it into our hotel room each night so that it would not incur temperature damage through the West Virginia mountains.)

Once in Richmond, Claire & I began a half-hearted search for a second cello, for me. Or her.

Lo and behold! Eureka! Amazing! We found one that BOTH of us felt good about!! We both agreed that this cello (ca. 1901) might be a keeper. It sounded nice. Looked good.

I claimed it.

"Merry Christmas!!!!!" I announced to that Spouse o' Mine!!! "You are off the hook for Christmas, our anniversary, and my birthday!!!!"

He smiled.

What's the Temperature?

We started acquiring ducks several years ago, when we moved to our rural clime and discovered that grasshoppers and junebugs abounded in the yard. We got ducks...I guess because I had always heard that Okie phrase, "...like ducks on a junebug!"

And so there: we got us some.

The ducks are pretty good in the pest control business. Sometimes they eat our greenery, and we aren't overly fond of that. They do lay nice eggs, which we enjoy. I have mentioned recently that they are laying about a baker's dozen each day - more than enough to keep us and our neighbors in custard and meringues. Interestingly, that Spouse o' Mine works with a few Chinese students, by whom duck eggs are considered something of a delicacy. Grad Student Gillian says the Asian Mart where she shops sells duck eggs at $1.00 each. Zounds! We just give ours to the Chinese students. And the food pantry at our church. And, occasionally, to our dogs.

This week the temperatures have been slightly warmer than the past few weeks. One way I can tell, without benefit of a thermometer, is how the ducks lay their eggs:


On a freezing day (literally), the ducks cover their eggs with straw and the wood shavings, and I have to sift through the shavings to find all thirteen or so. On a warmer-than-freezing day, they leave them uncovered. Additionally, I took this photo today, and there were two or three eggs in each little nest. This is not always the case - on freezing days, the ducks tend to lay ALL their eggs in one basket, so to speak. I think this also is a means to keep them warm. That one nest must have a revolving door on it for all the ducks to have a turn at laying.

That's all I have to share. Ducks. Ducks and eggs.

The Day

Well, Merry Christmas!

I am sitting here writing as that Spouse o' Mine talks to his parents, who live near Toowoomba, Queensland, Australia.

The College Boy Graham is in the dining room, working on a model ship. He received this ship 2-3 years ago (from Santa, of course), and every time he comes home he works on it a bit. By the time he is forty with kids of his own, it should be near completion.

Grad Student Gillian is upstairs, finishing her Christmas gifts - since we still have 5 days till we celebrate Christmas again. (Good thing we embrace the Twelve Days of Christmas!). I have it on good authority that all of her gifts are knitted works of art.

The ham is in the oven, the onion rolls are rising, and the sweet potatoes are soon to go in. I am headed upstairs, too, to the art room...it seems I have a bit of quilting to get completed this week...

The Eve

It's Christmas Eve! And very nearly Christmas Morn for us in the Central Standard Time Zone. My Aussie inlaws began celebrating their holiday morning a few hours ago. Oops - we usually call them, but this evening it escaped us. Will do tomorrow, in our Christmas morning and their Christmas night. Besides, they're probably at the beach now, anyway.

We went to Christmas service this evening, then home for a quick Christmas Eve soup bowl (succotash, if you must inquire), and then back in to town for a Christmas party at friends'. This is how we have done Christmas Eve for quite a few years now, since we moved to Kansas. Tradition, continuity, is nice. Our kids, then kids, knew their kids and families and friends, and now we know the whole shebang, and the kids, now adults, know the whole family/friends/shebang as well. A village which annually collects itself for a celebration of life and continuity.

Tonight, I am sitting up watching yet one more production of The Nutcracker (ballet). I have viewed four different productions this week, and tonight's makes #5: the Royal Ballet of London. I would rank this production as #2 or #1 in my humble opinion of what I have viewed this week - in terms of my enjoyment. Being no ballerina, I cannot judge the technical aspects of the ballet (well, yes, I can, in terms of the Berlin Ballet, because - I am sorry to be so judgemental - they were not at all up to snuff as the Bolshoi OR the Royal Ballet.) Anyway, the Royal Ballet seems to adhere closely to the traditional, and that is fascinating to me. The technique these dancers employ is amazing. And the Bolshoi? Maybe my very-very favorite production.

And by the way, I am up late watching the ballet and writing this blog, waiting for the kids to fall asleep before Santa arrives. The kids are adults now, as are subjects of a lot of their gifts. (College Boy Graham remarked after opening two this evening before Church Services: "Wow. This must be an "appliance" Christmas year for me." ) Heh heh. Welcome to adulthood, Honey-Pie.

We have 2/3 of our kids home tonight. #3, College Grad Claire, will arrive on the 30th. This year is a changing year for us. We have never NOT had all our kids home at the same time for a holiday. Somewhere during tonight's church service's last song, I got teary-eyed. This year is a transition year for us, for me. Learning to share my kids with others. Bah, humbug.

But, that's life, I know. I am learning.

So here I am, watching the Pas de Deux and getting ready to fill some stockings. What is going into the stockings from Santa tonight? Duct tape, chocolates, spice gumdrops, a hacksaw, and some gardening gloves.

Yep. The kids have grown up.
I have, too.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Weekending

What a pretty day! Sunny and windless. Forget that it was 14º when I arose this morning - it was a pretty day, two days before Christmas.

Last weekend we drove to Pryor Creek, Oklahoma for
Big Family Christmas.
At least, that's what I call it.
We are a big family:

I was describing the Big Family Christmas to a friend today. Having always ever known a big family, I suppose I thought this was how all people did holidays. My friend is an only child who married and had an only child, and so her holidays are calmer and simpler. I bet they even have a formal sit-down affair complete with witty repartee.

Here was our Big Family Holiday:

High noon: Potluck: Dig in!

After lunch: Obstacle course in the back yard! Go! Go! Go! Note: this entailed a myriad of physical challenges, including crossing a creek by means of log, mountain biking, climbing a chain link fence, toting a sailboat buoy (don't ask) across a stretch of running trail, shooting hoops, and maneuvering across a giant swingset (this sucker contains a giant swing, a hammock, a trapeze bar, and a tall treehouse deck) "without touching the ground".And then,
Christmas Story: All the grandchildren (now adults) retell the Christmas story, throughout which we all sing old hymns and carols. We have done this since I was a wee one, I think.

Followed by:
Dirty Santa: Dirty Santa with 35+ people...all of whom arrived bearing homemade gifts. We had a plethora of medium from which to choose and steal: oil paintings, watercolors, quilts, a sculpture, food, photography, and funny, goofy things as well. This was a really fun idea instigated by my SIL Stephanie two Christmases ago. It is a hoot, and I highly recommend it.

I suppose I recommend it because I got just what I wanted,
made by my niece Lisa's husband Josh (so is he my nephew-in-law, or what?)
A boot-scrape!

After Dirty Santa we move on to the next activity:

Handel's Messiah: The entire thing, 2.5 - 3 hours of singing. At this juncture in the day, some friends of the family come over and join us. This is a really good thing, because we need the additional voices. This tradition, singing the Messiah, began many, many years ago, first by our singing key songs from The Messiah in church choir ( directed by my father), and then sometime in college or shortly thereafter, we as a family got together and started singing the whole thing. The most amazing part of this? My sister Barb played the piano accompaniment for the WHOLE thing. We were reminiscing last weekend, how Barb would commence practicing The Messiah the day after T'giving, and would be ready by our Big Day to play the whole thing all the way through with nary a mistake. Incredible. Barb passed away five years ago. The Christmas after she died, we didn't do Big Family Christmas, much less The Messiah. Her absence is still a chasm in our holidays. We miss her laughter so much.

After singing the Messiah, we scatter and finish off the odds and ends of food and conversation, completely numbed by the entire affair.

What can I add to this description, but to say that it is our tradition, and we embrace it...even as a marathon runner embraces the 26.2 miles........

~ Happy holidays to everyone reading this ~
~ Merry Christmas to all.