Winter's hazards

Yesterday morning there was still snow and slush and ice on parts of the freeway--I-84. Around 9 a.m. a dense fog dropped down on this valley. I suppose some drivers proceed in situations like that as if nothing could or ever should impede their progress. And I know many drivers follow too close upon the car in front of them. 

All this is preliminary to my saying that yesterday's travel conditions led to a 46-car pile-up on I-84. Ten people had injuries requiring treatment at hospitals, and one had serious injuries (he's the one whose Subaru was clipped by the back of a big logging truck and dragged in under the truck. I have seen pictures of his car, and the miracle is that he survived.

The freeway was backed up and closed for many hours. Franklin road, used as an alternative by many drivers, also became backed up and was not itself great for driving.

Today I drove to Nampa and back, and I passed the Ten Mile exit and surroundings without trouble. You would never know any of this happened just yesterday. The freeway is dry today, and driving was easy. 

I had thought yesterday morning of calling Julie and asking if I could come over then instead of waiting until Friday (today). I had heard a weather forecast of snow and freezing rain for Thursday night and Friday morning. I did not make that call to Julie, something guiding me to say--and I said it out loud--"No. I'll just keep tomorrow's appointment." 

This, of course, before I knew of the huge chaotic incident (a word that does not sound serious enough) on the freeway.

I prayed this morning for the Lord's protection. I got it, and so did the rest of us who drove that road today. I am safe, and I am grateful.

Richard's birthday yesterday

Here's what Axel did yesterday for Richard's birthday. He's four and was excited about his dad's birthday, so throughout the day he would look for--and find--little things of his, wrap them in construction paper, and give them to Richard as birthday presents. I love that. It's the perfect gift, you know.

As Richard was telling me this story, Axel said, "And Mom," meaning he also gave such little gifts to his mom throughout the day.

I see his reasoning. 1. He loves his mom, too. 2. She was sick yesterday. 3. In Axel's mind you can't separate the two. They--his dad and his mom--are one.

Axel is a smart boy. And a sweet boy, too.

I Remember

New Year's Day. We would run downstairs and plop ourselves in the den to watch the Rose Parade. The couch, the rocking chair, and my dad's contour chair (holding him, usually) were filled with us, and some of us sprawled on the floor.

Deep in memory I have recollections of being at the parade one year. I can see a very young me and my mother and father and siblings standing on the street, like, maybe Colorado Blvd, with hundreds of other people.  It's the kind of thing my mom and dad would do.

One year we--my mother, Janeen, Lucile (I think), and I--went to the place where they parked the floats after the parade. That year featured a huge float of Babe Ruth's face. Perhaps these occasions were before we had television in our home. But I'm not sure.

I have tried to find what year featured the Babe Ruth float--some time in the late 1940s or early 1950s, I think--but can't find it on google.

Mostly we watched the Rose Parade on television, and it was great, a tradition we all supported until we got old and sophisticated or old enough to leave home. Even when my children were young we could gather on that special morning and enjoy the Rose Parade.

I guess I could call those the good old days. And it would be true in this case.

Then it became a joke to watch the Rose Parade on TV. Too many commercials. That was just the beginning. The networks that showed the parade began using the time to plug their own shows, which to me was an unholy intrusion. And then someone's (not mine) idea that we needed "real" entertainment, because the parade was not enough, and some singer with accompanying gyrations (I can hear my dad saying that: gyrations) would occupy the whole screen. Good time for a snack or bathroom break, I thought.

The truth? I haven't watched it for years. I only assume the Rose Parade is still carrying on in Pasadena. I hope so. Maybe today I'll turn it on and see what has become of the TV coverage. Maybe.

ADDENDA:
The Rose Parade is on tv at this moment. I have seen one float and Marine Corps band. The floats used to sit on top of an unseen truck and be driven by some guy inside. Now, at least the Honda five-car train float, had the insides of a computerized command center. That's what drives it.

Back upstairs to the parade. Just thought you'd like an update. 

Okay, so I'm watching it and am well satisfied with ABC. Commercials, yes, but no plugging--so far--of ABC's stupid shows. Besides, I like Hannah Storm

Back again to report that the floats are still driven by some guy hidden inside who may or may not be able to see where he's going. If he can't, someone on or alongside the float tells him where to turn and so on. 

No surprise here: I want to go there.

Ring Out Wild Bells, by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

It's a poem I love. Here it is in its entirety.

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,

The flying cloud, the frosty light

The year is dying in the night;

Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,

Ring, happy bells, across the snow:

The year is going, let him go;

Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,

For those that here we see no more,

Ring out the feud of rich and poor,

Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,

And ancient forms of party strife;

Ring in the nobler modes of life,

With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,

The faithless coldness of the times;

Ring out, ring out thy mournful rhymes,

But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,

The civic slander and the spite;

Ring in the love of truth and right,

Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,

Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;

Ring out the thousand wars of old,

Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,

The larger heart the kindlier hand;

Ring out the darkness of the land,

Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Afterward . . .

We take down the tree.

There is something sad about that activity. It signals the end of Christmas and an end to the gathering of family that comes with Christmas, an end to the bright eyes when someone gets a wished-for gift, an end to the reminiscing about Christmases past, times when we were all here together, funny things Wayne did that we'd love to see again. And an end to the singing.

Lola sat and played some Christmas songs for us, a lovely background music, and some of us sang along. Our traditional Far, Far Away on Judea's Plains. And I Wonder As I Wander, Let It Snow, Deck the Halls.  Later I went to Andrew's house for dinner, and we had a lot of spontaneous singing there, and I learned that George sings, and he knows the songs, words and music.

Andrew's family and their What Month Was Jesus Born In? were the hit of Christmas Eve. We demanded a second performance.  We had our regular chili and corn bread. (I'm thinking next year should bring a new something to eat on Christmas Eve. We'll see.)

We had a good time, but it's over, so today I have taken down the tree, put away the nativity scenes, the Santas and Christmas doo-dads, and the favorite wreath that Lola made for me.

Sad, yes, but also satisfying to put the house back in order. It's time to move forward. The new year, 2014, approaches. It will bring its challenges and heartaches, no doubt. But it will also bring that baby boy Larsen we have all been watching and waiting for. That will be a joy for all of us, especially Alyce and Ben. Our wish and prayer is for all to go well.

Christmas Morning

Up early, before 4 a.m., but only because I couldn't sleep any longer. Got my kitchen in order, dishes put away. Had breakfast and went to bed for a an hour or so.

I have listened to the Carpenters. I always think I hear her heart and soul in her singing. Still miss her. Their kind of music has passed away. I bought their Christmas album again the other day and put a bow on it. It's under the tree waiting for anyone who wants it. I really think everyone in my family already has the album, so if no one in my family wants it, I'll find someone who does.

Just now I am listening to The Messiah. How divine it is.

I cannot celebrate Christmas without music. And I must thank my mother for my love of music.

I have finished reading my mother's journal. Her final entry was September 18, 1979--five days before she died. I would say that it made me sad again, but I believe it is sad still. I am also happy and ever grateful for her and what I have and know because of her. A little bundle of energy and intelligence and music and work. She worked hard always and had such a difficult time obeying the doctor that month of September 1979 when he told her she should rest, take it easy, because of her heart. I did not know of this before today.

My children will be here soon, and we will open presents and miss our dad. But we'll have a good time. We had a good time last night. I think, though, that they will be unhappy with what I am giving them. Oh well.

Season's update

It's Christmas Eve eve. I'd like to get my voice back by tomorrow night. We are going caroling. I hope. I haven't been well enough to go to my neighbors and ask if we can come singing. I did speak to Shirley. She will be expecting us.

Snow remains on the ground, but the temperature is above freezing and much has melted. Footprints are again prominent and then there's my neighbor's bloody snow (the killing of the deer). So, all in all, it isn't as pretty as a "white" Christmas with new snow, but not much we can do about that. I love the look of it, newly fallen snow, but do not like the trouble it brings with it.

Warm back east, where Alyce and Ann live. In the 60s, and in New York, 70 degrees. Strange for Christmas. Except that where I grew up, Santa Monica, we had snow only twice in all the years we lived there, and none of it stayed on the ground. Most years our Christmas wasn't white but it was beautiful just the same.

But Christmas is about more than weather. I love this time of year, love to speak and sing about the birth of our Lord, to remember his birth and life and love for us, for me. And I am always happy when my family gathers here, thankful when they show love for each other. I have asked each of the three families to prepare a musical selection for Christmas Eve. I'll let you know how that turns out.