November 30, 2006 Issue

Now that Thanksgiving has come and gone—and I had much to be thankful about—the holiday season has begun in earnest. For me, the best part of the holiday season is getting cards from people I generally only hear from once a year. Sending cards out is one of my favorite things too.

Last year, after Christmas, I was thrifty and bought some of Cara Roy’s fine cards at half price to send out this year. Right now they are in box waiting to be unearthed. I’ve only got three boxes left to open, so they must be in one of them. By the end of the week, I should have found them and started in to writing short notes on all, addressing them, and affixing my holiday stamps, already purchased from the post office. It takes some time, even if your holiday card list isn’t huge. You want to let everybody know you are well, impart the hope that the same is true for them, and urge them to get in touch more often than once a year.

And this year, I actually have room for a tree. Yes indeedy. Nothing makes me happier than the smell of a Christmas tree. For the last few years, I’ve had to content myself with breathing deeply at my brother’s house because I just didn’t have a good place to put a tree. Artificial trees don’t cut it for me and while it may seem wasteful to buy something that will have to be thrown out, I just don’t care. Give me a real tree with a real smell so I can lovingly hang all those ornaments I’ve been carting around for years. Twinkling lights add the final glow and I will be able to have one of my own to look at anytime I want.

Many years ago, my mother started collecting dated ornaments and sending some out as gifts as well. My mother’s been gone since 1987 and I thought I would carry on the tradition. For a few years I was able to find really nice dated ornaments, but in recent years they are scarce. The ones I have found just aren’t of the same quality as the ones I have or the type of quality I would want to give as a gift. It’s hard to understand why some manufacturer hasn’t jumped all over this.

Hallmark is all over the place with the keepsake ornaments and how to use them to celebrate a family’s high moments. It’s a nice idea and the commercials are sweet, but not even Hallmark makes the kind of dated ornament I have in mind. The last one I found was a crystal glass bell and I snapped it up, but that was years ago. I haven’t tried surfing the Internet, but I might go trolling just to see if I can find anything approaching what I see in my mind. Now that I can have a tree, I’m not averse to buying it for myself.

Once again this year, my little family has decided to make gifts for each other and give money normally spent on gifts to charity. I like this plan. Money will be spent on all kinds of Christmas related things anyway—can you say chocolate covered cherries?—and the money donated to charity will be spent by those who need it to provide a holiday for their families. Retailers need not cringe because some choose to donate money so others can do the shopping. Everybody wins in my book.

This ties in to Charles Morgan’s column about the joys of volunteering. For years I have maintained volunteering is essentially a selfish act. A good selfish act, because nothing makes one feel better than doing something for somebody else.

I dropped by Harbor Docks late in the afternoon on Thanksgiving. The plan was to meet up with Bill Campbell, have a drink and be grateful for the fine day. Meeting up with Bill was fleeting, as I looked at the crowds still arriving, and thought it better to remove myself and my car from the premises.

Lots of thoughtful folks were making sure the future is brighter for hard working people in need of a home. They glowed with the spirit of sharing and it was a beautiful sight to see.

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