a Charlie Brown Christmas

While not actually a Christmas carol, the music to Charles Schultz' 1965 television special is iconic to anyone who grew up in that era or any subsequent generation. Vince Guaraldi's score is perfect, and any cut from it - even the "non-Christmasy" music - instantly conjures up Christmas for me.

Capturing the Christmas Spirit can be tricky. Charlie & Co. are masterful at portraying this without being sticky or maudlin. The message of the show, of course, cannot be missed. We are celebrating much more than tinsel and lights in this season!

Here's "Christmas Time is Here" from the opening credits.


Today's the seventh day of Christmas!

Mary had a baby

I have had the honor and privilege of singing wonderful music with wonderful people. My first real choral experience was in high school, when the first thing I recall singing on stage was Handel's Messiah. We sang nearly the entire work, the Christmas and Easter portions, and I sang my first (and last) public solos in the recitative Then Shall the Eyes of the Blind be Opened (prophetic, no?) and the alto part of He Shall Feed His Flock. Overlapping my high school experience was Skyline College Choir, under the direction of the extremely talented Dr. Patricia Hennings (a.k.a. "Cap'n Pat").

Those two musical experiences literally formed and colored the rest of my life. Aside from my blood relatives, there is not a single friendship or relationship I have made since that cannot be traced back to those choirs. And that includes my children!

Out of the Skyline choir came the Schleptet. Later given the more acceptable name, "Acapellicans", we were friends who sang well together. No fewer than eight - often ten or twelve - we were never sure how many would be together, hence the "schlep" in our -tet. My singing talent, I think, is based mostly on the ability to surround myself with others who sing well. The raw talent in this group was utterly divine, with many who had natural voices that vocal pros would give their right tonsil to have. This was especially true of Carolyn and Linda, our sopranos.

One night after being out Christmas caroling in the frigid damp, we were feeling particularly - ambitious? high on our collective talent? nostalgic? Something like that. We'd been wanting to record our Christmas music, had not done so, and time was running out. So Bill got out the microphones and recording equipment, and we gave it a go. With the sopranos almost completely out of voice, we could have just one take per song, and we filled up a cassette tape with beautiful music - and priceless memories.

One of my favorite cuts from that evening is "Mary Had a Baby". Despite her protestations and facial contortions, Linda nailed the solo. Of course, all I have is an old cassette tape from 1985. So the version below will have to do. But I tell you true, in all modesty, we sounded better than the youngsters here. We were divine.

we interrupt our regular programming...

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me... food poisoning! Recovery is imminent, but no caroling for me today. Be back soon!

Solstice

from this source

Did you see it? Last week, the full moon occurred on the Winter Solstice - and then, to top it off, it eclipsed. Like, totally. What an amazing confluence of cosmic events: it has not happened since the early 17th century, and it shan't happen again until 2094 - I don't intend to be around for that one! I do not necessarily believe that the things that happen in the sky influence my earth-bound behavior. However, I am a big fan of natural events and good timing, not to mention being a big fan of the Creator of such events.

I almost missed it - I thought it was going to be on the evening of the 21st, but (in this time zone) it happened at about 11:30 on the evening of the 20th. (I'm so glad I was paying attention!) It was raining on and off, so I was also unsure that anything would be visible in the heavens... but the sky cleared, and I ventured outside around 11:15. I wasn't sure where to look, so I just went out to the courtyard of my building - there are no great views of the sky there, but I didn't really know where the moon would be in the sky at that time. All I needed was to look up: there she was, directly over my head.

http://mantoos.com/science/winter-solstice

So beautiful. So strange.

Not long after totality was reached, the clouds returned and hid the moon. (I felt some relief to be going inside - my neck ached from tipping my head back so far!) My constant companion, my iPod, was with me as I watched bella luna... playing selections from the many versions of Windham Hill's Winter Solstice recordings. It is an Advent tradition for me to begin my Christmas music listening with these albums recordings. They relax and inspire meditation in me, and I play them often. So of course, I had the Windham Hill playlist going as I dashed outside into the cold. It was a perfect companion.

P.S. ~ it's the fourth day of Christmas!

the bleak midwinter

snowflake stars are cut from silvery origami paper

Today is the third day of Christmas. I seem to have spent the first two days (and, possibly, the day before that) dining exclusively on cookies. This behavior must stop ~ my body is craving vegetables, meat and milk at this point. Back to work now, that shouldn't be a problem.
This song is one of my very favorites to sing in Advent and Christmas. It is also one of the very favorites of the Bethany Quartet ~ and I sure missed singing this, and any Christmas music with them this year! The first time I ever heard In the Bleak Midwinter was in Julie Andrew's holiday special in 1987, hence the video link above. (Click on it, click on it! It's so good. Not only was Ms. Andrews the star, but her guests were Placido Domingo, the King's Singers and John Denver ~ certainly all-stars in my music library.)

There is nothing I do not love about this song:

In the bleak midwinter frosty wind made moan
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
snow on snow.
In the bleak midwinter long, long ago.
Angels and archangels may have gathered there.
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air.
But his mother only, in her her maiden bliss,
worshiped the beloved with a kiss.

What then shall I give him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd I would bring a lamb.
If I were a wise man I would do my part.
Yet what I can, I give him: I will give my heart.

It's that last verse. As a person of little means (as far as this society is concerned), it gives me pause - and hope. Whenever I have a meager offering to bring, this verse runs through my head and I feel comfort. It is no small thing to give from the heart - in fact, it is the only gift that matters.

this flake, and those above, were "cut" with an iPhone app, "the Flake Factory"!

the Cradle Song

Be near me Lord Jesus
I ask thee to stay close by me forever,
and love me, I pray.
Bless all the dear children
in thy tender care,
and fit us for heaven to live with thee there.

It's enough to break your heart, isn't it? Those words, that song, that tune... It is achingly tender and oh, so beautiful. Of course, I am in a fairly tender spot right now, but it brought tears to me this morning in worship. Something about being rocked gently and loved tenderly... something about the inclusivity of all the dear children... something about living our lives in a way that is fitting for the One who loves us so dearly... All that sentiment in just three or four breaths? Impossibly sweet.

Yesterday was Christmas Day. (Today, of course, is the second day of Christmas, and we still have ten more to go!) All the dear children were under one roof for my family yesterday: my parents, their five children, all seven grandchildren and the single great-grandchild. With spouses and friends, there were twenty-one of us. We had a rollicking good time, yes we did. We ate well, laughed and kidded each other, caught up on each other's news. We tried a white elephant gift exchange for the first time, and that was just too fun. I looked over at one point (I think it may have been when nephew KMQ opened a gift that consisted of 2 packs of staples and a chipped dental mold of his father's teeth) and Dad was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. Overjoyed was the sentiment of the evening!

There was the joy of simply being together, of course. (I am not the only one of my family who subconsciously counts heads - and if someone is missing, the joy is diminished ever-so-slightly.) But there was more to it than that. We all know that it could be the last time for us all to be together for Christmas, which adds both a sting and a richness to the experience. The way that we were able to achieve it is bittersweet as well. For the first time in my recollection, Dad put out an edict: his only gift was to be that we would all be together. It goes without saying that this is what he always wants of us, for any holiday. But it has never been decreed... until this year.

Which brings us to the logistics of getting everyone there. This is not a difficult request for most of us. However, my middle brother DQ, who lives the farthest from us, has a very hard time traveling these days. He is too ill to get himself to us, and often too ill to travel at all. Because of this, he has missed a wedding, and most birthdays and holidays in the past few years. Knowing this, my son took it upon himself to get my brother to Christmas. A. called DQ and arranged ahead of time (though he was not going to take no for an answer!) He left right after breakfast and drove the 90 miles to pick up DQ, brought him to us... and when the festivities were winding down, did the whole thing again in reverse. Spending about 8 hours on the road. Mostly in a driving rainstorm. The night before he had an early flight out to Anchorage.

So this is the other part of what breaks my heart with tender joy. That my dear son has grown to be a man with such a generous heart. That my feeble brother was willing to risk his pride in letting him do so, as well as in revealing to us how feeble he has become. That my father risked his own pride by asking us all to give him his heart's desire. And that we all managed to gather in joy and love. We acknowledged what is before us but did not allow it to diminish us in any way ~ and in fact, our collective circumstance has enriched us beyond imagination.

Thanks be to God for these tender blessings!

on the bright side

On the day before Thanksgiving I was at work, doing my usual stellar job of tending to the eyeball patients. A "frequent flyer", a blind woman who is in the midst of multiple surgeries, came in for her pre-op exam, and her young-adult son accompanied her. I ushered them in and shut the door, and only then did I notice that he was sniffling and snuffling and then SNEEZING and COUGHING without covering his face. In a very small space. Just spitting it out into the air we were all breathing.

Yuck.

I left the room momentarily, and brought back a mask for him to put on. He sneezed a few more times before he got it on (I should have just put it on myself!) It was too late, of course. In exactly 3.2 days, I had his cold and it was kicking my butt.
Thanks, dude.

++++++++++++++++++++

Okay, but here's the thing. I decided I was not going to let this get me down. Rather than dwell in the misery of it all, I started thinking of the up side:

• I was not sick for Thanksgiving.
• I may have been sick on December 1st, but that will be long gone by December 21st.
• I have so far, through the intervention of many, many foreign substances, managed to avoid any respiratory infection. It's just a cold.
• While I was not able to call in sick any day this week (long story) my boss sent me home early on Tuesday and Wednesday, so I didn't have to kill myself (much) working while feeling like crap.

And ya know what? It helped. I'm still really congested, but I worked a whole day today and then went to get some dinner and do some shopping. I'm really tired, but I made it. And tomorrow will be fine, too. I may not get to go to the Advent festival AND the progressive dinner, but that will be okay.

see? not Grumpy!

I just love it when that happens.

None of the images in this post are mine. That should be obvious, but now I've confirmed it. Thanks, Google images!