Christmas eve eve

6:15 a.m.

YC: Mom, <something incomprehensible>?

ME: HUH?

YC: Didn't you want to walk the dogs? 

ME: "<Something incomprehensible> grumble, grumble"


It is a strange turn of events, children waking you. But I was up and dressed and ready to walk as I woke to the thought that today's list was long  (It still is). And we have lots of people with whom we must coordinate. Family was here - only a short walk was possible before we were to meet for breakfast.

Movies have been selected for later in the day, timed for a lunch with OC who is working (With only Christmas day off her schedule takes priority). I have work obligations and and other household responsibilities - cornbread must be made, a camera must be purchased (after fruitless research, I am still sans camera), gifts must be wrapped, and so on).

My head was filled with the "gottas." *

But soon the pace of the walk, the cold, the silence, and the beauty of the early morning focused my mind on the walk.

The frost twinkled on the grass as DH and I headed to the park.

The walk seemed strange until I remind myself why the quiet was deeper/the shadows darker. Holiday walks are calmer with the absence of the school rush. Missing is the grunt and growl of the yellow school bus disturbing the darkness with flashing light. Chattering children do not prowl the corners. Frantic parents and teenage drivers are not rushing to early morning sports practice.

It was cold, but not the piercing cold we have had earlier this winter. The air was still. Our breath billowed out. (We could hear the few runners' labored breathing before we saw the breathers).

The park was empty. The rain of two days ago had pooled in parts of the creek and it appeared that a thin layer of ice skimmed the surface.

We were the only creatures about other than the two runners and few drivers heading to work. No neighbors came out to talk. No cats prowled; no dogs growled.

I noticed one set of holiday lights casting odd parabolas against the siding. "Need a camera," was my thought. The walk was over. The work begins.

* DH and I used to bemoan the "gottas" in the days BC (before children). We would have a day or two off from school and would want to do something fun, but the "gottas" would "get" us. I suppose there really is no rest for the wicked. (Isiah 48:22 and 57:20-21)