The beautiful snow I wrote about last week is gone now. Mike made paths for the dog and the cat, paths to the compost pile, the woodpile, and up the driveway, even though there wasn’t more than a couple of inches by the end of the day. Paw prints and wheelbarrow tracks, our own footprints, too, marred the pristine whiteness with signs that life continued as it needed to.
Christmas preparations are underway, slowly, but progressing. I am still tottering around like an old wreck with my bad knee, but trying to do a little something every day. I learned long ago that if I put away the boxes of unhung ornaments I haven’t had time to unpack, rolls of ribbon and paper, whatever hasn’t been done by Christmas Eve, no one will know but me.
I have never accomplished the perfection of magazine Christmases. Most people don’t. I don’t want anything lavish, just all the parts that are meaningful for me. It doesn’t mean that my imagination doesn’t overtake reality every year. It just means I accept having to downsize at the end.
Iyla and I spent Thursday afternoon decorating the dollhouse for Christmas. We had so much fun unwrapping our familiar trees and toys and decorations, the plate of cookies on a table, Santa Mouse dressed in red, the sleigh that sits on the front porch, and a lighted garland we twined around the porch posts. All of our mice are tucked into their beds awaiting Santa’s arrival. As are we.
Despite everything, the magic of Christmas, the anticipation, still thrills me. I don’t ever want to be heedless of how special holidays are. Somehow, with what psychologists would call dialectic thinking, I have managed to reach my age believing in Santa Claus while still doing all the work myself.
That said, most of us acknowledge that holidays can be hard, too. Holidays are what they are. Memories of how things were, of people we loved who are no longer with us, of dinners ruined by any number of culinary or interpersonal disasters, of loneliness, or of being overwhelmed by way too much of everyone and everything.
The library will be closed on Dec. 25, 26, and Jan. 1. They will be serving free soup and bread lunches on weekdays from 11:30 am to 1 pm during the school vacation. All sorts of projects and programs have been planned, too. A temporary tattoo parlor and movies for kids, a collage poetry workshop, an LGBTQI+ book club meeting, a meeting for model train enthusiasts, and support for work-from-home caregivers that includes childcare by MVRHS Early Education students. Check out the website: http://westtisburylibrary.org, call 508-693-3366, or look at the kiosk next to the circulation desk that has handouts for everything that’s going on.
The Chilmark Preschool has opened its waitlist for the toddler program for 2026–27. Applications are on the website; go to www.chilmark.preschool.com to add your child’s name to the list.
The column is done. Now I can bake another batch of cookies, set up Uncle Dick’s Christmas village, maybe make an evergreen swag for the porch. Write some cards while I rest my knee.
Will we have a white Christmas? Will our new year be a good one? I wish everyone all you wish for yourselves.
