Saturday, December 10, 2016

SNOWMEN...

Time passes…
          …and we’ve had our first snow here in Maine!
A few inches fell the other day. It was barely enough to shovel, but shovel we did—the sound of neighbors working at sweeping their cars and clearing their drives and walkways is nearly musical to me.
I took a break, stood at the end of my driveway and just listened.

Although I choose to ignore the religious trappings and crass commercialism that dominate our lives at this time of year, I still find promise in a few traditions from my childhood—a very few, to be sure, but ones that give me small pleasure.

And speaking of “promise,” here’s one kept: another shot of the wonderful calendar I found for this year.
Here’s the snowman.

He’s refreshingly traditional!
          He’s got a black top hat (with a bright red band), coal buttons and a carrot nose; he’s got a scarf, knotted jauntily around his non-existent neck!
When I was little, we used to stick tree branches in his sides to make arms; the little twigs at the ends made fantastic fingers! We never had a top hat, but used instead one of my father’s fedoras or the real bomber hat he wore during his stint flying for the US Navy during WWII—an old, fur-lined, moth-eaten horror that resembled a dead rodent; my mother threatened to throw it away for years.
She never did, though; she knew what was important.


 I opened the little door for December 8 right after I took the picture of the snowman: here’s the inside.
Those eight tiny reindeer: “Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen; Comet, Cupid, Donder, Blitzen…” (If you’re from Boston, by the way, those names are second to those of Robert McCloskey’s famous ducklings: Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Ouack, Pack and Quack).

On Christmas Eve, we used to leave a bowl of dog kibble for those reindeer, right next to Santa’s Budweiser and Ritz crackers with cheese—my father always told us that Santa liked stopping at our house better than any other house in Maine, thanks to our creative snack offerings!


He was right, I’m sure.

19 comments:

  1. What a charming post! It was nice sharing your memories with you ... love that you put dog kibble out for the reindeer.

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    1. Thank you, Patty! Didn't everybody feed those reindeer???

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  2. Sadly I was raised without Santa, something my mother now regrets, but my parents were trying to raise me without that commercialism. My nieces and nephews used to put carrots out for the reindeer, though.

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    1. Carrots work just fine! And the Santa thing can be really overblown--your parents did fine!

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  3. I still have wonderful memories of when I believed in Santa Claus, but do not recall at what age I was when I learned the truth or how it impacted me. Actually, it did not cause much of an earth trembling disaster; Christmases still camet the same way without a hick-up. I never lost sight of the real reason for Christmas, even though I was never very religious, and I love seeing all the lights and outdoor displays, and the Christmas songs and carols., even as I edge closer to that big 80.

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    1. And here I am, reminding you that I'll ALWAYS be nearly ten years younger than you are...

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  4. Envious of your snowy white Christmases - I've only ever experienced one in Germany many years ago. We've been in the UK a couple of times but didn't get snow then. A lovely old snowman image. Children still leave out food for Santa and his reindeer here in Aus, and of course he comes here first, after New Zealand that is ☃

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    1. Of course he does, Jo! I never doubted it for a minute...and I have to say, snow at this time of year is always the best!

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  5. A lovely post of Christmas reminiscences. We put out carrots and milk for the reindeer - plus a wee dram of whisky for Santa. Guess who drank that!

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    1. Glad to see that at least TWO of us Sepians kept Santa in hooch...

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  6. Yes to the carrots for reindeer and cookies and milk that my grands have continued for Santa...I do have a bit of a traumatic memory when I was urged to lie to my little sister about Santa when I found out the "truth." So I had the first of many hypocricies of my parent's teachings and somehow survived.

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    1. And we all survived, didn't we? And did you fall for the Easter Bunny thing, too?

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  7. I'm not sure how my parents managed to let us 'believe' in Santa and still, at the same time, convey that he was really just in our imagination, but they did, so there was never an earth-shattering revelation about his not being real. We knew that as soon as we were old enough to understand which was nice because we could 'believe' if we wanted to and still laugh because we knew it was really Mommy and Daddy.

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    1. I never believed either, Gail...and I seem to be no worse off than people who grew up totally in awe of Santa...whatever works, right? Have a lovely holiday season...

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  8. You gave me a very nice Christmas moment. I haven't had time to do anything for Christmas and I'm looking for bits and pieces where I find them.

    And the crassness this year with the commercials extolling the need to buy an expensive car for Christmas has me grinding my teeth. I'm especially hating the ones that show kids on Santa's lap while the parent is off to the side trying to coax the kid to ask Santa for an expensive car. Vomit inducing. I'd like to see the Budweiser horses running through the snow. Even an old Coca Cola commercial. Shoot, I'd even settle for the Clapper with the woman who looks like she rolls over and dies after the lights go out.

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    1. It's grim, isn't it? But keep laughing...knowing that you're smart enough not to fall for it all!

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  9. A nice link to your post from last week, and what a joyous snowman scene too!

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    1. Oh, thank you! I think I've run out of prompt responses, though...

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    2. Oh, thank you! I think I've run out of prompt responses, though...

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