Songs of the Season, Part I

Christmas songs play in my head almost all year long. There are certain songs that seem appropriate for almost any occasion. I'm not a singer, so those around me are not tortured with my vocal renderings of these songs. Jingle Bells pops up with alarming frequency in the strangest of circumstances (in a line of traffic, in a line at the grocery store, in fact any place I have to wait for a period of time). Most of these songs I have heard a bazillion times throughout my life. I recall as a child hearing on our little transistor radios a Christmas song or two interspersed with the rock n'roll stuff blaring in our ears constantly. Christmas Eve was the time when our dad would put on his radio station in the living room and we would be inundated with renditions of holiday favorites sung by Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Perry Como and the like. His radio station went 24 hours with Christmas songs and was only one of a few that did it. I even remember a TV station that showed a picture of a log perpetually burning in a fireplace as the holiday songs filled the airwaves. No commercials. It was amazing.

My husbands eclectic collection of holiday songs includes things from Dr. Demento with vocal renderings from the Three Stooges to Adam Sandler (and some Hanukkah songs as well--nothing is sacred to that man!). But songs like, "White Christmas", "The Holly and The Ivy", and yes, even "Jingle Bells" are still the ones I listen to again and again. My daughter has a lovely tradition she has started (and I hope continues, hint, hint) of creating compilations of holiday songs. It's a gift I look forward to every year as these CDs follow me in my car from place to place. They are varied and contain old and new artists, old and new songs, funny and serious. She has a lovely ear for music and weaves these treasures with a sure hand and good computer filled with thousands of songs. I usually pop in the one from the previous year (or sometimes more than a few years back) while traveling to stores and even to her house to refresh my memory of the tunes she's added or subtracted. Her selections fill my head (and heart) as soon as Thanksgiving draws near and well into January, I'm still playing them.

In the next few weeks, I hope to select some songs that bring the holidays into focus for me. I hope you will hum along with my words as I wander about the season.

A Difference in Temperature

I'm doing a first this weekend; I'm visiting my daughter overnight. I came down yesterday with bag in hand and a sense of anticipation. I haven't done this before in her new house. I was looking forward to hearing about her recent experiences camping with students and not having to rush home. We had a leisurely dinner, did a little shopping and came back to her place to watch the kitties have "Wrestlemania" , which they apparently do most nights. The weather was due to change overnight as a cold front was pushing through. My daughter, ever mindful of my propensity to freeze easily, loaded up my bed with not one but two quilts. When we went to bed, I was confident of being warm and cozy.  I woke up several times so warm I thought I was as done as a turkey on Thanksgiving. I rearranged the quilts and tried to go back to sleep. That's when I noticed how dark it was. Really dark. I'm used to street lights or even neighbors house lights. Not here. It was dark. And suddenly I felt cold. So I turned the light on and rearranged the quilts again. But now I wasn't sleepy. I grabbed my trusty iPad next to the bed and read for a while. I nodded off at some point and realized I was at 400 degrees again. I again, flipped the topmost quilt off and turned off the light and tried to sleep. It was really quiet out here. And did I mention dark? I lay there for a while staring at the window. I began to feel drowsy. I turned over and tucked my arms under the quilt, it was cold. Should I grab the other quilt again? At this point I think I was just too tired, so I drifted off to sleep dreaming of winter. My daughter and her husband like their house cooler than I am used to, but it was not artic by any means. I guess the blood just doesn't flood as fast or something.

I awoke earlier than she and watched the sun coming up over the trees which surround her backyard. It was a restful and pretty sight and I'm glad I was here in the morning to see it. Next time I think I'll bring long sleeved pjs with me and maybe a night light.