[her speedy-evening feast of Princess-shaped pasta. mom & dad had cupcakes from Butter Lane.]
[notice our lovely but as-yet undecorated tree in the back]
. . . . . . . . .
i’m happy to report that i survived the busiest weekend of the season… two 12-hour singing days have left me exhausted but happy. last year i remember singing full force every day through the 25th (then collapsing into an exhausted mess around 2:30 Christmas Day); this year i’ve got a little slow-down before the real frenzy picks up again, and i’m loving the possibilities. i wasn’t home when emma watched Rudolph for the first time this week, so i asked her about it the next morning…
me: Em, did you watch Rudolph last night?
em: Not Rude-off, Rude-ON!
me: oh, did you watch Rude-on the Red Nose Reindeer, then?
em: Yeah!!! i like Rude-ON.
and indeed she DOES like Rude-on, and The Polar Express (although i find the animation scary and a wee bit creepy), and opening the little window to retrieve the piece of chocolate from the advent calendar every night, and anything with Santa (who she simply calls “Christmas!”). she has her very own little tree in her room, and she and daddy picked out our sweet Douglas Fir this afternoon. control-freak mom (*ahem*) is excited to put the lights on just right tomorrow, and we’ll be decking the hall (and the bedrooms, and the bathrooms, and the kitchen…) all week. maybe it’s the christmas-birthday-baby in me, but i love this season so very very much, and i am giddy with excitement at sharing it with emma.
[one of my favorite christmas decorations; grandma ruby's ceramic lite-brite tree]
[you can't tell from these pictures, but the nose lights up. of course.]
. . . . . . . . .
are you getting bored of my cape cod photobook? sorry…it’s become my new evening zen. i curl into bed by 11, go through some pictures from the trip, edit a few, and then cuddle up and slip into a deep sweet sleep. i’m not going to complain one bit about what i call “cape cod time”; i haven’t slept this early, this easily, or this soundly in years.
in other news, Elektra opened last night. in other, not necessarily unrelated news: i don’t really care for Strauss opera, particularly Elektra. but still? pretty awesome job, this singing at lincoln center thing…i don’t forget that for one second.
other odds ‘n ends:
~ very excited to put up the tree, but no idea when we’ll get to it, as this is my busiest weekend of the season (i literally have one break this weekend, 3-4:00 on saturday. all other time will be on the road, in various rehearsals, singing a wedding, two masses, doing a lessons & carols performance, singing Elektra…). still, my cold dark heart grows three sizes every time i pass a christmas tree vendor (they’re on nearly every corner here), so i know it’s time to haul out the holly.
~ also very very excited to be going home in just a few weeks. whoever wrote “there’s no place like home for the holidays” was talking specifically about christmas at my parents’ house, i’m sure of it. i’m dreaming of sitting by the fireplace with a book and a glass of wine while Pa watches old episodes of Little House on the Prairie and the sounds of mom & em running and giggling through the playroom fill house, sneaking away to SuperWalmart in the wee hours of night, meeting up for a pot of coffee at jojo’s (jeska, are you reading this? i’m talkin’ to you!), sitting around with my cousins and their kids, and taking pictures filled with green space and antiques and joy…
~ i love birthdays. (not just mine.) i also love going through old pictures with good friends. and sharing little memories. and laughing. and listening to really corny songs.
~ i have a new goal for the new year: my honey and i are going to learn to swing dance. no, it’s not JUST because i want to dress all 40’s swingy; that’s just a bonus.
[note to auntie d: when on 'cape cod time' i even manage to make it up in time for the sunrise. that's saying something, huh? ]
we soon discovered that on The Cape nearly every beach is different. our calm quiet little beach was filled with perfect white seashells. the one we made it to at sundown on that day was covered with seaweed, but offered giant rocks for climbing over the water and a massive amount of breathtakingly open sky (it was thanksgiving, and i had forgotten how close we were to Plymouth and all the pilgrim-land until just that moment). other beaches had soft light sand, little fences and high dunes (”mountains”, according to emma. as in “mom! i climbed a mountain!”), while on others we found coarser sand covered with rocks, beach-grass, and tall lonesome houses straight out of a Hopper painting.
i was never into those things before, certainly didn’t grow up longing for the quiet open spaces. i think, though, that we all have places that speak to us. i’ve had a handful in my lifetime - places where i can remember exactly how low and bright the stars were, or how magical the sounds were, or how the curve of the streets moved me to tears (note to self: must get back to paris someday) - and i hold onto each of these treasured memories with an almost delicate joy.
