Eddi's Service by Rudyard Kipling

This poem is said to record a Christmas incident of the year 687.

Eddi, priest of St. Wilfrid,
In his chapel at Manhood End,
Ordered a midnight service
For such as cared to attend.

But the Saxons were keeping Christmas,
And the night was stormy as well.
Nobody came to service
Though Eddi rang the bell.

"Wicked weather for walking,"
Said Eddi of Manhood End.
"But I must go on with the service
For such as care to attend."

The altar lamps were lighted,
An old marsh-donkey came
Bold as a guest invited,
And stared at the guttering flame.

The storm beat in at the windows,
The water splashed on the floor,
And a wet, yoke-weary bullock
Pushed in through the open door.

"How do I know what is greatest?
How do I know what is least?
That is my father's business,"
Said Eddi, Wilfrid's priest.

"But three are gathered together,
Listen to me and attend,
I bring good news, my brethren,"
Said Eddi of Manhood End.

Then he told the ox of a Manger
And a stall in Bethlehem.
And he spoke to the ass of a Rider
That rode to Jerusalem.

They steamed and dripped in the chancel,
They listened and never stirred.
While, just as though they were Bishops,
Eddi preached them the word.

'Till the gale blew off the marshes,
And the windows showed the day,
And the ox and the ass together
Wheeled and clattered away.

And when the Saxons mocked him,
Said Eddi of Manhood End,
"I dare not shut his chapel
On such as care to attend."

The Oxen

I love this poem with its aching melancholy and yearning for the lost beliefs and faith of our childhood. It was written in 1915, in the midst of WWI, a time when miracles were in short supply. The legend the poem is based on was that cattle – descendants of the beasts that knelt in reverence at the stable in Bethlehem – would kneel each Christmas Eve at midnight.

The Oxen

Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.
‘Now they are all on their knees,’
An elder said as we sat in a flock
By the embers in hearthside ease.

We pictured the meek mild creatures where
They dwelt in their strawy pen,
Nor did it occur to one of us there
To doubt they were kneeling then.

So fair a fancy few would weave
In these years! Yet I feel,
If someone said on Christmas Eve,
‘Come; see the oxen kneel,

‘In the lonely barton by yonder coomb *
Our childhood used to know,’
I should go with him in the gloom,
Hoping it might be so.

Thomas Hardy

* barton is a farmyard and coomb is a valley

Winter Birds

You can download the printable of these sweet little birds at artist Rebecca Kallum's blog, here.

The fir tree

The night of the Saviour's birth, all the living creatures, both flora and fauna, came to Bethlehem with gifts. The olive tree brought its fruit and the palm its dates. But the little fir tree had no gift and was so tired it couldn't resist when the big trees pushed it into the background and hid it from view. But then a nearby angel took pity and commanded a cluster of stars to come and rest on its delicate boughs. When the Baby Jesus beheld this lovely lighted tree, He smiled and blessed it, declaring henceforth that fir trees should always be filled with lights at Christmastime to please little children.

Candy Cane Kisses

I've just discovered a new holiday favorite, Hershey's Candy Cane Kisses. They are sooooo good. They're creamy and sweet and just divine. They taste like the Hickory Farms' melt away mints, only better. I'm in love.

I bought a bag yesterday because I thought they'd be pretty melted on top of my holiday pretzel treats. The Candy Cane Kisses are red and white swirls. Before I made the pretzel treats, I thought perhaps I'd better taste a Kiss. Just because they were pretty didn't necessarily mean they were going to taste good.

I ate one and was hooked. I almost didn't want to use them on my pretzel treats. Another trip to the store was definitely in order. I had to be at church at 9:40 Sunday morning to practice with the bells and choir, but if all went according to schedule, I'd have time for a quick run back to Lowes foods to clean out the rest of their stock of Hershey's Candy Cane Kisses before the service.

They only had 2 bags left on the shelf. I grabbed them and got in line. The downloaded internet coupon for $1 off wouldn't scan. After the cashier tried for the 5th time, I asked couldn't she just key in the numbers. No, they can only scan internet coupons. I finally told her I'd just pay full price. I didn't have time to keep fiddling around and I wasn't about to walk out without my candy.

My route back to church passed by CVS. I still had a few minutes to spare. I made a quick detour and hit pay dirt. I grabbed 2 more bags. Dad thought I was going overboard. "Aren't you going to get tired of them?"

Given that I can't eat just one, I don't think that will be a problem. "They only make them at Christmas," I informed him. "It'll be a whole year before they sell them again."

That's a long time. I may need to add a few more bags to my supply.

But I’m not ready yet

Christmas is next week and my decorating is still a work in progress. The tree and mantel and yard lights have been done since Thanksgiving. The living room is mostly done if you overlook the fall arrangement that I took off the table, set on the floor, and then promptly forgot about. But shortly after that, I got sidetracked. There were Christmas treats to make, shopping to do, and handbell practices and performances.

Yesterday it was so warm outside that I was inspired to start putting together the Christmas greenery. It’s easier to do when your fingers aren’t encased in bulky gloves. Of course, bare fingers may be more nimble, but those holly leaves will stick the fool out of you. Even the lacy looking cedar will scratch you if you’re not careful. But our holly is full of beautiful red berries and I love the delicate look of the cedar, so I risked it.

The wreath is now up on the back porch and the hunting horn is festooned with greenery and hung on the shepherd’s crook. That was all I had time for before lunch. I did those first because I can enjoy them when I let Dillon out or am standing at the sink washing dishes. Of course, Dad’s first question was whether or not I’d finished the baskets to go to the cemetery. Heck, I haven’t even started on the baskets for the cemetery. Or the greenery for the front light post. Perhaps I should put on my miner’s light and work at night?

I’ve come to the conclusion that we have too many Christmas decorations. There are boxes that never even get opened. Every year, I think I’m going to decorate a tree in the living room with all the beautiful glass ornaments that aren’t safe around a lab’s wagging tail. Then I realize that Christmas is next week and by the time I get the tree up and decorated, it’ll be time to take it back down again.

I love decorations. I just don't particularly enjoy the work of decorating. I need elves.

Christmas bells

I try to watch as many Christmas specials as I can. I watch everything from animated cartoons to Christmas concerts. Several years ago, I stumbled across The Raleigh Ringers Holiday Special on PBS, One Winter Evening at Meymandi Hall. It was this performance that inspired me to say "Yes" when invited to join our church's bell choir.

The Raleigh Ringers is one of the preeminent handbell groups in the country. Their members have to audition for their spots every year. One of the highlights of my short time playing handbells was participating in a clinic conducted by David Harris, the director of The Raleigh Ringers. I wrote about it here.

One Winter Evening at Meymandi Hall is being shown on WUNC-TV on Thursday, December 15 at 10 p.m. If that's not past your bedtime and you're in search of something to watch, you might want to check it out. The music is beautiful and the performance is very entertaining.

Read me a story

I love audiobooks. I listen to them in the car while driving since my radio reception varies from poor to nonexistent. I listen to them at night to still my mind and fall asleep. In the spirit of the holidays, I’ve been listening to Christmas stories for the past couple of weeks.

A Child’s Christmas in Wales is read by Dylan Thomas himself. Such a lyrical story and simply wonderful. I’m glad I have the print version as well because Dylan Thomas’ narration can be a bit difficult to follow at times.

Caroline Kennedy’s A Family Christmas is terrific. It’s an anthology of Christmas songs, poems, and stories ranging from the secular to religious. Some are old favorites, some completely new to me. I love this collection so much that I have both the audio and print versions. Last night, I fell asleep to Truman Capote’s A Christmas Memory. I’ve always loved that short story, but listening to it is an even richer experience. The narrator is perfect, the accent and phrasing are just wonderful and bring Sook’s character to life.

Mary Kay Andrews' Blue Christmas definitely qualifies as fluff and will never rise to the level of a classic. But I enjoyed listening to it last week on my way to the mall for some Christmas shopping. And it absolutely helped calm my nerves while navigating the traffic in the parking lots.

I just finished listening to The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. I’ve read the story before, as with most of the others I’ve listed here, I own both the print and audio versions. Once again, the narrator adds something extra to the experience. It was a hoot as well as thought provoking and inspiring.

I just started on David Baldacci’s The Christmas Train on the way home last night. I haven’t read that book and it's one of the few I’ve listed that I don’t own. I hope it’s as good as the rest have been. Skipping Christmas is still waiting in the wings.

If you haven't tried audiobooks, you really should. Some libraries have on-line collections available for free download. Our library has a collection of cassettes and CD's available. I listen to more books than I read these days. It's amazing how many books you can go through even with a commute as short as mine.

Frosty the Snowman

Like father, like daughter

Last night at church, when Nancy came over to invite Dad to join her table, she commented that we had the same build, so she could tell we were related. Today at work, Carol said how much she enjoyed meeting my father. “You have the same dry wit,” she remarked. Dad and I aren’t sure which of us should be flattered and which insulted. The one thing we agree on is that people thinking we’re that much alike is scary.

A Joyful Noise

We had our Christmas bell concert at church last night. Last year, I told Dad he didn’t have to come and he took me at my word, stayed home, and watched a basketball game. I have to admit to privately questioning his priorities. It seemed slightly unnatural to prefer a televised regular season basketball game to watching your daughter play in a concert, however amateurish. My feelings weren’t hurt and it was actually pretty funny, so no harm done.

This year, we had two pieces that just weren’t coming together. Jane scheduled two extra bell practices, I referred to them as emergency bell practices, to try and whip us into shape. After our last practice, she said that the two carols were beginning to sounds like “pieces” instead of a jumble of random notes. That sounded like faint, but hopeful praise. Jane is wonderful, never gets outwardly frustrated, is quick to laugh, and always stays positive.

I spent Sunday baking chocolate crinkle cookies to go with my pretzel Hershey kiss treats for the dessert table. Dad asked again what time the concert began. He planned to attend. I guess there wasn’t an interesting basketball game on tv this year. I told him he didn’t have to come, but I thought it was a nice gesture on his part.

We had a nice little crowd. Dad looked spiffy in his Pendleton plaid shirt, sweater vest and sport coat. The temperature can be chilly at our church, so he was dressed for warmth. A very nice member of the congregation who also sings in the choir, Nancy, came over, introduced herself, and invited Dad to join herself and her husband at their table. I left him in their good hands.

At the last minute, Carol, from work, arrived with her husband. Carol knows my bell buddy, Leigh, from when they both worked at the ESC. I’d been sharing my horror stories about our practices, so Carol wanted to hear us in action. I thought she was both thoughtful and brave.

Our two difficult pieces went very well. I even managed to nail the one page turn I was responsible for in Angels We Have Heard On High. Then for some unknown reason, I completely lost my place and didn’t play another note until I figured out where we were about a page later. Jane had reminded us prior to the concert, when she read a prayer for handbells, that if you get behind, it’s better to be quiet than late. I didn’t dare ring until I was sure of my place. The audience didn’t seem to notice although I’m sure Jane did.

At the end of the concert, we handed out bells and songbooks to the audience. Our victims got a chance to play our version of bells for dummies while we all sang along. It was wonderful and I must admit, gave me the most genuine feeling of Christmas spirit I’ve had all season. There’s something about a group of people joining together to sing Christmas carols that can’t help but get you in the spirit of the season.

When I joined Dad at the conclusion of the concert, his newfound friends claimed to have thoroughly enjoyed his company. Being Dad, he was slightly confused as to their identity. During the intermission, I had brought him over to introduce him to Carol from work. She enjoys my Life with Father stories, so I wanted her to meet Dad. We also have another Nancy at work. That Nancy is not the same Nancy that was at church last night. Naturally after meeting Carol, from work, and being introduced to Nancy at church, who clearly knew me (from Chamber of Commerce functions over the years), Dad thought church Nancy was work Nancy. I hope he didn’t confuse church Nancy too badly.

Dear Mrs. Claus

Click on the cartoon to see the entire thing.

Now that's a smart kid!

A pain in the neck

I applied a Band-Aid to Dad’s neck for what I hope will be the last time this morning. He’s been applying hot compresses to the cyst on his neck at least 5 times a day for a couple of weeks now. A new Band-Aid was required after every compress. He applied his own compresses, but heaven forbid he should have to stick on his own Band-Aid.

At first, we were using gauze pads and tape. Monday, trying to be helpful, I told him that it looked to me like he could just use a regular Band-Aid. I was sort of hoping that he’d be able to put on a regular Band-Aid without my assistance. I should have known better.

He promptly went shopping for Band-Aids. I warned him not to buy anything he couldn’t remove himself because we’d already reached the limits of what I was willing to do. No way was I going to have to rip Band-Aids off while he howled. I might have been tempted to rip his head off while I was at it.

He bought the biggest Band-Aids he could find. I really thought a normal size Band-Aid would do the job and have the added advantage of having less sticky surface to pull off. He’d been complaining that his neck was getting sore from removing all the tape. Obviously, I had underestimated Dad’s perception of the size of his boo-boo.

Given that the cyst has shrunk to practically nothing and is no longer oozing, I thought it was silly to keep applying Band-Aids, but I kept my mouth shut and just stuck on the Band-Aids that he handed me. This morning when he handed me the Band-Aid, he announced that he thought that one would be the last. I wanted to do a happy dance, but I restrained myself and just said a low-key “good.”

His brother called Wednesday to say he and his friend, Joan, were going to stop by and see Dad today. That meant I had to clean house this morning. I do just enough to try and avoid having the topic of conversation on their return trip be whether or not a call to the health department and/or social services is in order.

I told Dad I was going to dust, vacuum, and clean the bathroom and his contribution was to go pick up lunch for the two of us so I didn’t have to cook. He gave me a pained look. I thought I was being generous. I could have stuck a duster in his hand.

When I came home tonight, I noticed an Old Fashioned glass I never use on the kitchen counter. Last time Uncle Thomas came to visit and wanted something to drink, Dad just pointed at the kitchen cabinet that holds the glasses. It was summertime, but Uncle Thomas wound up with a Season’s Greetings Christmas glass that probably had dust in the bottom because it hadn’t been used in about a year. This time, there was a newly washed Season’s Greetings glass on a tea towel on the counter and another clean one in the cabinet. It would certainly have been appropriate and festive to use either one of them.

“Why didn’t you give him a Season’s Greetings glass?” I asked in frustration. “I didn’t give him a glass. He asked where we kept the glasses and I pointed at the cabinet.” “You need to be a better host. You’re supposed to get him a glass. That glass hasn’t been used since I put it in the cabinet when I moved in 20 years ago. He probably had to blow the dust out.” Dad just laughed.

“I swear, why do I bother trying to clean when you just go and ruin my image by letting people go through the cabinet and use dusty glasses?” I pointed at the dishrag lying on the counter. “I left the dishrag draped over the faucet. How did it get on the counter?” “I don’t know,” Dad replied. “I didn’t move it.” “Uncle Thomas probably used that to wipe the dust out of the glass,” I said in disgust. Dad just kept laughing. He can be such a pain in the neck.

Where to put the tree?

When I was at the mall, Christmas was the most stressful time of the year. Getting all the decorations up while listening to customers complain that we'd started too early, apparently they believed there really were elves who could do it all in one night. Hiring Santa's Helpers who understood that yes, you did have to work on Christmas Eve day and it would be nice if you didn't come to work dressed as if you were getting ready to wash your car. Dealing with screaming children and frustrated parents who had long ago forgotten that Christmas is the season of peace on earth, good will towards men. And most stressful of all, scheduling Santa and then washing his beards, mending his clothes, and humoring his whining and complaining when things got on his nerves so that at least one of us was merry and bright.

I was constantly in search of a little bit of Christmas spirit or a good laugh. The story below is one of my favorites as it fit my mood exactly. After reading it, you'll understand why I was even more amused that the figurine on the top of my personal Christmas tree is a beautiful Santa Claus.

A little Christmas story…

When four of Santa's elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones, and Santa began to feel the Pre-Christmas pressure.

Then Mrs. Claus told Santa her mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more.

When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were out, Heaven knows where.

Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the floorboards cracked, the toy bag fell to the ground and all the toys were scattered

Frustrated, Santa went in the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drunk all the cider and hidden the liquor. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug, and it broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.

Just then the doorbell rang, and an irritated Santa marched to the door, yanked it open, and there stood a little angel with a great big Christmas tree.

The angel said very cheerfully, 'Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?'

And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.

Why Christmas Trees Aren't Perfect

This is a very sweet Christmas story and the illustrations are wonderful as well. I just might have to add a copy of the print book to my collection. In the meantime, click here for a link to the story online and enjoy!

Kitchen Kapers

Yes, I do know that capers doesn't really start with a k.

I planned to get started on my Christmas cooking today. I had to make a trip to the grocery store for some HE Tide to try out my new washer and figured I’d pick up the ingredients for party mix and fruitcake cookies while I was there. It wasn’t until I got back home that I realized I’d forgotten to buy pineapple juice which is one of the ingredients for the fruitcake cookies.

I thought about going back out to the store. Food Lion is right beside McDonald’s and I’ve been wanting to try one of Mickey D’s new peppermint mochas. Two of the women at work say it’s really good. In the end though, I decided to make the party mix first and hit the grocery store again tomorrow.

Since the party mix has to cook in the oven for 1-1/2 hours and requires stirring every 15 minutes, I took advantage of the wait time to chop the pecans and candied cherries and pineapple for the fruitcake cookies. That’ll make them seem like less work tomorrow. Dillon loved when I had to stir the party mix because despite using my biggest roaster, since I was making a double batch, I still managed to spill a couple of pieces of cereal on the floor each time.

I use Mom’s recipe for party mix. Luckily, she copied it off a cereal box back in the late 50’s, early 60’s. Today’s versions just aren’t the same. I read the back of one of the Chex cereal boxes today and they had a version they claimed was the original. Please, it had no cheerios and called for bagel chips. I don’t think there was any such thing as bagel chips when the original recipe was developed. The new version was also missing celery salt, which was Mom’s favorite ingredient. The new original recipe may be good, I wouldn’t know as I don’t waste my time preparing it, but it definitely isn’t the genuine original recipe.

My laundry room is right off the kitchen, so I was able to monitor the first load in the new washer while I was cooking. So far, so good. Everything seemed to work as it’s supposed to. There are lots of flashing red lights on the dash. The bulbs had better be long lasting because if they ever go out, I won’t have a clue what cycle the machine is set for. A timer shows the minutes remaining for the load to finish. The machine is quiet and when it finishes, it plays a little tune.

I spent some time staring at the wash through the glass top. It was interesting for a while, but after I saw how the agitation and spin worked, the novelty soon wore off. That’s okay. I just want it to clean my clothes; it doesn’t need to entertain me as well.

Oh, Christmas Tree!

I've just discovered Thymes Frasier Fir fragrance. It's amazing. It smells like there's a fresh cut Christmas tree in my house. Candles are $26, but I went for the reed diffuser, $48, so I could enjoy the fragrance all day long. Yes, it's pricey, but this is a splurge that I'm really going to enjoy. You can purchase on-line from Thymes, or Amazon, or do a store search on the Thymes site and find a local retailer near you.

I found a local retailer because even after reading the glowing reviews, I wanted to smell Frasier Fir for myself before making what for me was a major purchase. I never spend that kind of money on home fragrance. I always seem to be disappointed with the candles I purchase after I get them home and start burning them, so I was dubious of the claims that this scent was really better than all the rest.

But every Christmas, when I put up my faithful little artificial tree, I think wistfully of the fragrance of a live tree perfuming the house during the holidays. As soon as I smelled Frasier Fir, I was hooked. It's so much better than anything Yankee Candle or Bath and Body Works are selling. If you want the fragrance of a live tree without the hassle of dealing with watering and shedding, check out Frasier Fir by Thymes.

Real Simple

If you're a fan of Real Simple, and I am, Amazon has a great price on 1-year subscriptions going on now. $12 for one year, while supplies last. Make sure you don't check auto-renewal. Go for the regular one-year subscription.