So Hallowed and So Gracious

Once again, family health emergencies have intruded into our thoughtfully planned schedules.  We had planned to visit Old Salem this week and listen to Christmas music on the Tannenberg organ.  But kindness and responsibility are more important than our ordinary plans in times of emergency, after all.  Which is an appropriate thought to have on this Christmas Eve in Highlands when people everywhere - on the streets, in the post office, in the hardware store - seem to be striving to become better versions of themselves, smiling, singing snatches of carols, exchanging well-wishes and words of comfort.  I wished a complete stranger a Merry Christmas yesterday!  How wonderful it would be if we could always dwell in such a season.

I did manage to run three miles early Monday morning before making trips to Asheville on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday.  While we were in Asheville on Tuesday we managed to find time to go to see the National Gingerbread House Competition at the Grove Park Inn. 

 
 The Inn is such a lovely place to celebrate Christmas, and we have often visited it during this season - what a wonderful place to be snowbound for a few days!  I could wander around its long corridors and climb to its many levels day after day, I think.  It looks like it will be standing for centuries, unlike some of the gingerbread houses that were already caving in.

And on that Thursday, we took advantage of the window of opportunity.  It was an unseasonably mild day, the first day of winter, and I was comfortable wearing shorts and a lighter shirt, a reminder that in only two weeks we will be on our way to warmer climes for two months.  And I discovered that the sun is actually closest to the earth on this winter solstice, almost as amazing as the fact that on the summer solstice the day contains six hours more sunlight than during this dark time of year.  It is no accident that we celebrate the Light of the World at this time of year.

So today Martha is baking the ham that we will have for Christmas Dinner tomorrow, and I have decided to bake an apple pie entirely for my own enjoyment, and for the aroma that comes from the kitchen, the sound of Messiah in the background.

On Christmas Eve I always remember that wonderful speech Marcellus makes at the end of Act I of Hamlet:

"Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes

Wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated,

The bird of dawning singeth all night long.

And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad.

The nights are wholesome. Then no planets strike,

No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,

So hallowed and so gracious is that time."

So Merry Christmas to the occasional readers of this little blog.