Christmas Eve

It is Christmas Eve and our house is filled with the sound of Christmas music, the aroma of ham baking in the oven for tomorrow's Christmas dinner, and the sight of familiar Christmas decorations all over the house.  Martha walked around and took pictures of them and posted them on Facebook.

That little snowflake on the tree reminds us of 1979, the year we were married.  And all the other decorations bring back wonderful memories.

We have enjoyed a lot of holiday festivities this month, perhaps more than usual, including a wonderful overnight stay to see the Winter Lights at the Arboretum in Asheville the week before last, where on an unusually mild night (with snow still on the ground) we wandered through fantastic lights, listened to Christmas carols, and roasted marshmallows over an open fire to make Smores.

We also saw some good holiday theater:  The North Georgia Players production of "A Double Wide Christmas" last weekend, and earlier this month "A Seussified Christmas" at the Clemson Little Theater. Tonight will find us at the candelight Christmas Eve service at the Presbyterian Church, a tradition we have seldom missed over the past 35 years.

It is a season when we spend time with friends and families, but it is also a time for remembering with some sadness those who are no longer with us.  As we lose parents and friends we can understand more and more why this is a difficult holiday for many.  Still, there is hope for the future, and plans on the horizon:  a successful surgery, a good mammogram report, an encouraging visit to the ophthalmologist, journeys planned to faraway places.

For the more immediate future, we are looking forward to our time in Atlantic Beach, where thanks to the generosity of Martha's Aunt Lizette we will once again be able to spend some time in conditions more favorable for outdoor activities.  My running log for this month shows a scattering of short runs between the snows and the cold rains.  This is something we hope to remedy soon! The contrast on a windy, cold morning like this Christmas Eve is remarkable.

The warm sun, and the open road, are beckoning to us, and while we will miss Highlands, we are looking forward more and more to some time to read and write, time to run and meander across sand dunes, time to get away and renew ourselves in body, mind, and spirit.  Sabbatical.