With the arrival of December, we've come to the Season to Be Jolly. We haven't decked our halls with boughs of holly, but that's only because we don't have any holly trees available. If we did, we would. Instead, we've decked the house with lights and garlands. We've set out all the decorations, the nativities, the knickknacks – everything but the Christmas tree. That will go up next week. The house is full of festive music, carols, and songs. The popular song calls this "the most wonderful time of the year." I disagree. I prefer warm and verdant June and July. But December, for all its cold and darkness, is pretty wonderful – and we owe it all to Christmas, and for me, especially Christmas music.
The song It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year was written in 1963 and debuted on Andy Williams' first Christmas album that year. It's a catchy song, but it's never really been one of my favorites. It falls into the Long Queue of Mixed Christmas Songs category on my holiday play lists. You almost always hear the Andy Williams rendition, or sometimes Johnny Mathis.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year.
With the kids jingle-belling and everyone telling you "Be of good cheer,"
It’s the most wonderful time of the year.
With the kids jingle-belling and everyone telling you "Be of good cheer,"
It’s the most wonderful time of the year.
It’s the hap-happiest season of all.
With those holiday greetings and gay, happy meetings,
When friends come to call,
It’s the hap-happiest season of all.
There’ll be parties for hosting,
Marshmallows for toasting,
And caroling out in the snow.
There’ll be scary ghost stories,
And tales of the glories of Christmases long, long ago.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year.
There’ll be much mistletoeing and hearts will be glowing
When love ones are near.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year!
I always thought the lyrics were a bit silly with made up verbs like jingle-belling and mistletoeing. And I don't associate marshmallow toasting with Christmas, but maybe some people do. We here in the USA we don't usually think of scary ghost stories as part of the holiday. That's an old English custom that has mostly endured because of Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. It may not be among my most loved Christmas songs, but I like it better than a lot of others, especially some of the more recent ones. I'm always exploring new Christmas music to add to my collection, but seldom find new songs that I like. It seems the recent songwriters think simply inserting the word "Christmas" or other holiday words into a song of whatever style, makes it an actual Christmas song. A lot of the songs seem to have an almost mocking tone to them. I have strict qualifications for what I think constitutes a worthy Christmas song or carol. There has to be a certain feeling to it that I can't really describe. I know it when I hear it.
For some reason when I ask for a queue of Christmas music on Amazon or YouTube, no matter how it starts out, after a few songs they always seems to gravitate to songs that annoy me. Every year my Annoying Song List changes a little and grows a little longer. Sometimes it depends on how often a song gets played, or what version they play, and sometimes it's just the song itself. Permanently near the top of my list are All I Want for Christmas is You by Mariah Carey, the awful Merry Christmas (War is Over) by John Lennon and Yoko Ono, the endlessly overplayed Santa Baby by anyone, and so many more. This year at the top of my list is The Little Drummer Boy. This song was written in 1941 by Katherine Davis and was first recorded in 1951 by the Trapp family of The Sound of Music fame. After that, it was recorded by many artists ranging from Frank Sinatra to Justin Bieber. One morning last week, as I was listening, one of those many versions of it came up almost every other song. I kept hitting the skip button on the queue which only seemed to increase its frequency. That, plus the fact that I never really liked the song much to begin with, has secured its place on the list. When I was little, we watched the rather terrible Rankin-Bass "animagic" puppet musical and thought it was great. Now, I can't stand it. Everything about it is annoying – the awful animation, their irritating voices, and the dumb songs. The actual premise of the song The Little Drummer Boy is annoying and unbelievable when you think about it. I doubt Mary was very enthusiastic about a boy pounding on a drum while the newborn Baby Jesus was resting. I say bah, humbug to it.
Over the years, my explorations into Christmas music have led me to some great discoveries like Mannheim Steamroller's wonderful albums, and Windham Hill's A Winter's Solstice and Celtic Christmas albums. I remember discovering my favorite Medieval Christmas album, and Christmas Time with the Judds. I gladly added them to my collection. I have all the Christmas albums by the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square (Mormon Tabernacle Choir), and several collections put together by Readers Digest. I love my Kings College Choir Cambridge Christmas albums. I'm still looking for new things to add to my collection that meet my standard.
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| The Mannheim Steamroller albums we own. |
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| My A Winter's Solstice collection. |
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| One of our most favorite albums. |
Last week I was introduced to a new piece that I enjoyed. All year I've been making my way through the book Year of Wonder: Classical Music to Enjoy Day By Day. The entry for the first of December was a work I'd never heard before, something very old, and yet new, O Magnum Mysterium by Morten Lauridsen. The text is very old dating back to the Middle Ages.
O magnum mysterium O great mystery
et admirabile sacramentum and wonderful sacrament
ut animalia viderent Dominum natum, that animals should see the new born Lord,
iacentem in praesepio! lying in a manger!
O beata virgo, cuius viscera O blessed virgin, whose womb
meruenrunt portare was worthy to bear
Dominum Christum! the Lord Jesus Christ!
Alleluia! Alleluia!
The musical setting was written by American composer Morten Lauridsen (1943-) in 1993. I listened to it several times that morning and almost every day since. It is a lovely piece of music, both ancient and modern at once. This recording by VOCES8 is my favorite rendition. It is peaceful and the harmonies are beautiful.
After hearing that, the idea of animals witnessing the birth of Jesus intrigued me and sent me on a quest. I remembered a song I learned as a child called The Friendly Beasts.
Jesus our brother, strong and good,
Was humbly born in a stable rude,
And the friendly beasts around Him stood,
Jesus our brother, strong and good.
"I," said the donkey, shaggy and brown,
"I carried His mother up hill and down
I carried her safely to Bethlehem town;
I," said the donkey, shaggy and brown.
"I," said the cow all white and red,
"I gave Him my manger for His bed,
I gave Him my hay to pillow His head;
"I," said the cow, all white and red.
"I," said the sheep with curly horn,
"I gave Him my wool for His blanket warm,
He wore my coat on Christmas morn;
"I," said the sheep, with curly horn.
"I," said the dove, from the rafters high,
"Cooed Him to sleep that He should not cry.
We cooed Him to sleep, my mate and I;
"I," said the dove, from the rafters high.
And every beast, by some good spell,
In the stable dark was glad to tell
Of the gift he gave Immanuel;
The gift he gave Immanuel.
The words were written in the 1920s by Robert Davis (1881-1950), but were based on a Latin song from 12th century France, Orientis Partibus, the "Song of the Ass," that celebrates the donkey that carried Mary to Bethlehem. There is an old legend that says that the animals in the stable were the first witnesses to the birth of Jesus, before the shepherds arrived later that night and long before the Wise Men showed up, and that they were given the power to speak that night. I think it is a lovely legend and a lovely song.
From there I had to go further and look at visual representations of the Nativity that feature animals. There are plenty. They almost always show the ox and the ass. Sometimes there are other animals, sheep, even chickens. I especially love the Renaissance paintings. Here are few I especially liked.
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| Nativity with ox and ass. |
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| This one also shows the ox and ass, but why is the baby laying beside the manger? And what is going on in that upper corner that Joseph is looking at? It makes my neck hurt to look at him. |
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| This one has an ox, ass, and some sheep in the background. |
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| Botticelli's dancing angels are wonderful and there's the ever-present ox and ass. |
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| This ox and ass seem especially attentive. Are they breathing on the baby or is that a representation of speech? |
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| This is Tintoretto and has an ox, ass, lamb, dog, rabbit, and a chicken. |
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| Murillo has a chicken and a basket of eggs as well as the other animals. |
The animals always looks so interested in the baby, but I'm always concerned for the infant Jesus, who usually seems underdressed. I think these paintings are wonderful.
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December so far has been very wintry. We had our first significant snowstorm early in the week. It began Monday night and kept up through Tuesday morning. School first called a two hour delay and then canceled, which didn't matter to us since I'm retired and Miriam wasn't scheduled to be in that day. I had to cancel a doctor's appointment. The plows were not keeping up with the snow and I didn't want to drive to Port Allegany in those conditions. Stacey and Hannah went to work late. We got about six inches of snow in the end. That isn't unusual for Potter County in December, but I think because it was the first "big" snowfall of the season, people were overly cautious, including me.
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| The beaver pond on Tuesday morning. |
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| Tuesday morning. |
The snow that morning was pretty in that awful way it has of being lovely and disgusting at the same time. I went down to the barn midmorning to see how things were going in the coop. I could see from the tracks in the snow that the chickens had ventured out a few feet into their yard and then turned around and gone back in. There was a lot of grumbling when I stepped inside. I tried to cheer them up by throwing them a treat. They didn't seem very grateful.
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| Footprints to the barn and back. |
I felt like grumbling too after I came back to the house, shook off the snow, and had to peel off all the layers – hat, gloves, coat, hoodie under the coat, and boots. Then I settled in by the furnace grate and read away the morning. I was deep into Dickens' Great Expectations then. Although I'd read it several times before, I found a way to heighten my enjoyment even more. I tried to read it as if it was my first time and I didn't already know all the twists and turns and surprises. This little trick worked to a degree. It's such a great book. I marvel at Dickens' ability to weave a story together, to create plots, characters, and scenes in language that makes them so real in my mind. I finished it on Thursday and decided that I should go on a Dickens binge and pack my winter reading list with his novels. So I moved right on to A Christmas Carol. After that I'll read The Cricket on the Hearth – 'tis the season after all. Then which one will I read next? There are so many possibilities. Bleak House? Dombey and Son? David Copperfield? Nicholas Nickleby? All of them and more! What a happy prospect!
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| Next. |
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| And after that? |
I took a break from reading that afternoon to eat lunch and then spent an hour looking through seed catalogs. It's solace to my snow-blighted soul to turn the pages, look at the photos, read the descriptions, and begin formulating plans. I've started my order wish list. It will be weeks and weeks before my plans are finalized and orders placed, but it lifts my spirits to look ahead and think on all the possibilities.
Wednesday began with a very pretty sunrise. The red sky made the snow look pink. It was cold, just 14°, so I only stepped out of the warm house for a moment to look at it and get a quick photo – no venturing down to the beaver pond.
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| Wednesday morning. |
I didn't go outside again until it was time to do the afternoon chores. By then it had warmed to 30°, which felt almost balmy compared to the morning chill. Even so, I just did the necessary tasks and retreated to the house again. I'm not dealing with the cold very well so far this winter, and the worst is yet to come.
Thursday there was more snow in the forecast. I had an acupuncture appointment midmorning, but the snow wasn't supposed to begin until 4:00 p.m., so I went. The snow came early, of course. Halfway to Olean and my appointment, it was snowing so hard, I considered turning around and going home. But I was halfway there, so I drove on. The roads in New York were clearer than in Pennsylvania. That's usually the case. I made it okay, and had my session. By the time I was headed home, the snow had stopped and the sun was shining, but the wind was howling hard out of the north and the snow was blowing and drifting across the road in places. I stopped at the feed store on my way home and stocked up on chicken feed. I got home in time to unload feed and do the afternoon chores. When I finished my chores, I went next door to the Foster's barn to check their chickens. I walked out through the orchard and the big garden. There was a bitter wind blowing in my face. In places there were snowdrifts as high as my knees, the workmanship of that wind. As I trudged, I felt like I needed balalaikas playing the soundtrack from Doctor Zhivago to accompany me. Everything was fine at the barn. I trudged back home with the wind mercifully at my back, and came inside and stayed there the rest of the day.
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| Out in the orchard. |
I stopped filling the bird feeders weeks ago to discourage the chipmunks and red squirrels that were attracted to them. I wouldn't mind it they just stayed at the feeders, but they also invade the woodshed and get into the walls of the house, so I stopped feeding them. But I felt sad as I watched birds come to their old familiar feeding place only to find nothing. So on Thursday I started filling the feeders again. I watched to see which birds would be the first to discover they were full again. It's usually chickadees, but this time it was blue jays. Shortly after them, cardinals, juncos, mourning doves, and various finches, sparrows, and woodpeckers arrived. I love looking out and seeing them feeding. It is one of my great winter pleasures. There are few things in this world prettier than cardinals in the snow. Of course the chipmunks and red squirrels also showed up. I guess I can't have one without the other.
It got very cold last week. On Thursday at sundown it was 12° with a wind chill of -5°. I could hear the arctic wind making the limbs of the ancient maples creak and pop as it moved their old joints. The wind stopped around 10:00 p.m., but the cold settled in. The sky was clear and the brilliant full moon was shining. Before I went to bed, I banked the fire in the woodstove and checked the thermometer. It was -2° without the wind. Friday morning when I woke, the moon was setting and it was calm and -10°. The woodstove was still warm, there were a few red embers glowing. I stoked it and got it going again. When I dressed, I put on my thermal underwear and wool socks, turned on the electric heater by my desk, and read the news while I waited for the sun to rise.
There was a cleanness and a crispness to the world when I went out on that subzero morning. The sunlight looked intense, but carried no heat. As I went down to the barn, everything looked tight, with cold, hard edges. Even the snow, which looked as if it should be soft, was dry and sharp like powdered glass. It squeaked as I walked on it. The sound of it raised goosebumps on my arms that made me shiver as much as the cold. I knew the chickens would not be venturing out of their coop all day, they don't like the cold, so I threw them an extra ration of scratch to mollify them and came back to the house. I spent the day tending the woodstove and reading near its warmth.
Yesterday Stacey and I were out and about running errands – to Wellsville to drop by the chapel, to the library, to visit one of the members of the branch. That took up most of the morning and into the afternoon. It wasn't as cold that day. We actually rose to 31°. I didn't mind going down to do the chores. The chickens even left the coop to wander in their yard.
Last evening we went to a Christmas concert at the Consistory in Coudersport. There were musical numbers from various local talents. The final performance was the choir that Miriam and Hannah belong to. Hannah had a solo as part of their choir's performance. She did a great job. They have another concert this afternoon with just their choir performing. We'll be heading out to go to that in just a little bit.
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| At last night's concert. Hannah is all the way on the left in back, Miriam is all the way on the right. |
Hannah's solo.
Church today was good. Our stake president showed up unexpectedly and we had a nice visit with him. Julie taught Sunday School and gave a great lesson on Doctrine and Covenants 137 and 138. Today is Fast Sunday. We're working on lunch and doing the chores before we have to leave for the concert.
It looks like we've got more arctic weather headed this way. We'll be subzero again tomorrow night. This bitter cold weather usually doesn't come until January and February. I hope this isn't a portent of what lies in store for the whole of winter. Winter, that hasn't even officially arrived yet! But there is snow on the ground, the decorations are going up and it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
