Toby and I have decided we are getting old because we thoroughly enjoyed being home this Christmas and not in a snowstorm someplace in Kansas.
Thanksgiving and Christmas normally find us on the road driving to Colorado Springs to visit our daughter and her family. We really do miss our family in Colorado, but hopefully the price of gas will go down this year and make it less costly to drive 4,000 miles.
We did, however, experience a blinding snowstorm in Churubusco on our way to a housewarming. Our granddaughter and her husband bought a home in Constable, and you have to drive through that other country called “Ellenburg-Churubusco” with its own weather pattern.
My retired trucker husband didn’t bat an eyelid in the whiteouts. I just closed my eyes and prayed, especially when a little black car went up the middle of the two lanes of traffic. He did not get far, because it was so greasy on the roads that everybody else was going 35. He eventually turned toward Churubusco. I hope he lives to see summer again.
It was exciting to decorate our Christmas tree this year, but we found out it takes us longer than it did just a few years ago. The 7-foot forest-grown tree smelled wonderful and looked beautiful, but it took us three days to place ornaments, lights and all that glitters. After it was done — lit with a variety of bubbling lights and fairy stars — we were mesmerized by the creation, recalling lots of childhood memories.
We reminisced about how exciting it was to trek into the woods to cut down a real tree; how excited he was to receive one gift and some fruit in his stocking. A wooden toy and even socks were appreciated in the 1930s. Seems a long way from the commercialism of Christmas today.