West Tisbury Town Column

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—MV Times

It’s almost the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. I love the early darkness, turning lights on, getting the fire going to warm up the house. Mike comes home earlier, giving us a longer evening together.

Preparing for the holidays this year has actually been fun. I don’t know why I’m not feeling stressed or overwhelmed. I guess I decided to do the things I love and let the other stuff go, to keep things simple.

Clipping greens begins my preparations. I have happy memories of sharing that task with Richard, Mike’s father. We had our favorite spots, and would return home with his truck filled with fragrant evergreen boughs of all varieties. Mike’s mother, Bobby, always reminded us not to touch HER junipers; they always had loads of berries, but we respected her commands. They are both gone now, so the junipers and all of the other plantings on their property are no longer available. The trees I have planted here have grown tall over the years, and yield plenty of everything I need.

Once the greens are gathered, it’s time to decorate the windowsills and shelves. Electric candles are brought up from the basement, bulbs checked and replaced, if needed, then they go in all the windows. Greens are arranged around them, and whatever else I decide to do.

One year it was red glass balls with berry-laden holly branches. Another year, dried ‘Peegee’ hydrangea flowers. The creche that Barrie Nevin gave us for a wedding present. A colonial village made of china, and another wooden one that Mike’s Uncle Dick made. A set of carolers that I wanted desperately one Christmas, and discovered at the tippy-toe end of my stocking. There are tiny trees with drooping branches, or broken ornaments, from my childhood that are still precious. Log cabins, carved woodland animals, angels,elves, sleighs, Santas. One can never have too many bottlebrush trees. Or sparkles.

I strung popcorn and cranberries for the birds. Abby helped; she loves popcorn. My cards have been written, and are ready to mail. The dining room table is still covered with ribbon and wrapping paper, but it’s only the 18th, so it will get done, and the table cleared off in time for Christmas Eve.

Iyla and I baked cookies together last Sunday. Cookie baking is one of my favorite parts of holiday preparations, but I usually start too late, and it becomes a chore. We made a wonderful mess, laughed a lot, hugged and sang, and taste-tested our cookies several times to make sure they were good.

Driving around town to look at all the decorations and lights always puts me in the holiday spirit. The midwinter holidays, after all, are celebrations of light, of daylight beginning to lengthen after the winter solstice. Station 1 puts their lights out right after Thanksgiving. I can see them through the trees. Then the tree at the down-Island end of Old County Road, which was planted years ago and lighted every year by Manny and Sharon Estrella and their grandchildren. They could stand on the ground and easily reach every branch back then. Now it’s a major project, with a bucket truck rising high in the branches of a tree that soars high overhead. The children have grown, too, and soared into adulthood. I wouldn’t have recognized Andrea Pachico if she hadn’t been with her mother, Heidi (née Estrella) when I saw them at Conroy’s.

Pam Glavin called the other day. She has set up “Carl’s tree” in the Aquinnah Cemetery, a tribute to her late husband. Visitors are asked to decorate with ornaments and promises to help neighbors, as Carl did during his life. Pam’s calls are another annual tradition, a time when we catch up, and promise to spend more time together during the new year.

Mike and I got our tree yesterday. It’s still out in the truck, and we are still disagreeing about where to put it inside. Our usual place has been filled with the exercise table Mike built before his knee replacement, a sunny spot in our greenhouse, right in front of the windows where we could see the tree lighted up at night. We can’t move the table, because Nelson has claimed it as his new favorite spot, and sleeps there most of the day.

Find out in next week’s column how this will be resolved.

Peace on Earth. Good will to all.

If you have any West Tisbury Town Column suggestions, email Hermine Hull, hermine.hull@gmail.com.