The Christmas Diaries, Part 10

Boxing Day, December 26th 

Pygmy completes the Nuthatch Trio

After another good, deep cabin sleep, we woke up to a relatively warm, 28 degree, dawn.  High thin clouds turned shell pink in the early light.  Most of the snow was out of the trees.  The weather forecast called for a warming trend, and no hint of a coming storm that could complicate our departure a week from now.

I enjoy Christmas, but when it’s over, it’s over.  I still enjoy the lights and decorations and the tree, at least until January 1st, but in the music department, I’m done.  It was great to find a little early Jackson Browne on the iPod, and turn up the volume while doing a little cabin-keeping.  

We had a new visitor, and some old friends show up at the bird feeder.  I’m thrilled to have the two Nuthatches -- the white-breasted and the red-breasted -- at the feeder, but I noticed a new bird today.  It looked like a Nuthatch, but different...smaller and a softer gray with a slate gray eye-bar.  Juggling my binoculars and my bird book while reaching for the camera, I discovered it was the Pygmy Nuthatch, a new bird for me here.  A Trio of Nuthatches to complement the Trifecta of Juncos!  Also at the feeder were a pair of Cassin’s finch, the crimson tinted head on the male a dead give-away and such familiar feather friends from the summer.  Now if only the Evening Grosbeak would make an appearance.

When we left in early October the elk were bugling all over the hills surrounding the cabin.  We saw them frequently, along with the deer and even bear that call this habitat home.   Oddly, aside from birds we’ve see no wildlife this trip except for the odd tree-squirrel.  During our walks we always look for animal tracks in the snow.  Rabbit tracks are everywhere, almost more like a full body impression.  Lacy rodent tracks etch the surface of the snow.  And today we saw deer and elk tracks, lots of them, where yesterday there were none.  The meadows were a maze of rambling tracks, crisscrossing each other.  Wherever they went to weather out last week’s storm, they’re now back.  We’ll be keeping our eyes peeled.

Suddenly, tracks galore!

We have a swing at the top of the rocks behind the cabin, a favorite sunset spot for us for many years now since long before we decided to rebuild the cabin...the Trailer Days.  My romantic husband thought we should head up there late this afternoon to watch the sun set over the snow-covered hills.  I was less sure about this, but game, so we bundled up again and climbed around the backside of the hill to the swing, cleared off the day before by Bob, and mercifully dry.  It took about 20 seconds, enough time of one big appreciative “ooh-ah” at the spectacular view all the way to the distant mountain range, to acknowledge that with the stiffening breeze it was bloody cold.  Having trudged up there against my better judgement, I was determined to wait the five minutes to see the sun disappear behind the nearby mountain.  That done we beat a hasty retreat with our disgusted dog, and spent the next our in the warmest part of the cabin, the loft, finishing a new jigsaw puzzle of a wildlife scene in the Sonoran desert, a location and topic that helped banish the chill.

Dinner done, Bob returned to his Kindle and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, an astonishing novel by Jonathan Safran Foer.  I’d finished reading it since arriving at the cabin an suggested it to him as a possibility following his finishing rereading Jeff Shara’s books on the Civil War.  I’m happy to report that he’s hooked, even though he’s having a little shut-eye, stretched out on the couch with his sleeping Kindle in his lap.  Lots of fresh, chilly air at near 9,000 feet will do that too you!  I think I’ll try to quietly bundle up one last time and take the dog out for the last time today...could be exciting as it’s gotten quite windy outside -- I can hear it and the swaged Christmas lights are dancing on the front porch.  It will certainly feel even colder than it is with the wind-chill factored in.  No worries... warm bed snug with flannel sheets awaits.

The Christmas Diaries, Part 9

A merry, and very white, Christmas!

Christmas Day

Merry Christmas!  What fun to have it be a snow-filled white Christmas, the first we’ve had together, and the first for me in a long, long time.  We watched the sun hit the mountain across the valley, coffee in had, fire roaring.  We tossed an extra ration of seed out to supplement the feeders for the cold and hungry birds.  It was a bright clear day and we had a piece of the Cranberry-Orange Walnut bread to hold out for a big brunch later in the morning -- a big scramble of potatoes, peppers, onions, garlic, olives, tofu, and spinach...well seasoned and very welcome.

Around 1 PM our newly arrived neighbor buzzed over on his ATV to invite us over, their present opening session and lunch finished.  They have family with them, their daughter and her husband and two grandchildren -- all of whom we’ve known for some time now.  Just before leaving the phone rang and it was my daughter, calling to wish us a Happy Christmas from her husband’s family home in San Luis Obispo.  After a good long and cheerful conversation we headed down the hill and past the lake and headed up their steep drive to their cabin.  The drive was being plowed by none other than Santa!  Or at least it was being cleared by a guy driving a tractor with a plow who was wearing a Santa Hat.  

What sleigh?  What reindeer?

Margaret and Harry’s cabin is one of my favorite places to be, and nothing is better than coming in out of the cold to their enchanting space with a fire roaring in a  big stone fireplace.  There was a real Christmas tree decorated with flickering lights, incredible German decorations and music boxes, and a huge spread of homemade traditional Christmas cookies, some from recipes over 100 years old.  I’m always grateful to be in these friends’ presence.  Soon we were joined by “Santa” and his Dad, visiting from Texas.  Conversations swirled in the cosy cabin, sugar cookies were washed down with hot tea, and every where you turned there was someone else you were anxious to talk to.  Margaret encouraged us to stay for dinner, but she already had a houseful and we made a plan for them to pop over to see us in the next day or two, and made a date for them to have dinner with us late in the week.  It was a bit of a shock to step out into the late afternoon cold, the sun close to setting, but we had our own warm cabin to return to, and a dinner already prepped to finish up and pop in the oven.

Holidays are a bit of a test with our newish vegan diet.  I make the rare exception for desserts or dishes that I figure contain some butter, eggs, or milk.  And it can be challenging to come up with something fun and satisfying when tradition dictates a roast turkey or beef occupy center stage.  We had all the sides instead -- roasted acorn squash with a maple syrup glaze, a truly delicious vegan bread stuffing baked in a pan, homemade whole-berry cranberry sauce, and steamed broccoli.  We ate a little too much, out of obligation, and passed on dessert after having had our fill of Margaret’s wonderful cookies.  

Just before 9 PM, our usual bedtime (if we last that long), the phone rang and it was my husband’s grandsons.  Sitting next to him on the couch I could hear their excited voices, but not every word.  An animated discussion about glow-in-the-dark dinosaur puzzles and rocket ship PJ’s followed.  Snow levels of here and Denver where compared, and sledding possibilities in both locations discussed.  Tentative plans were made for a quick trip to Denver to see them before heading back south to Tucson.  For my husband especially, a perfect end to an otherwise very special Christmas.

The Christmas Diaries, Part 4

Snowy dawn

Ten Years Ago Today, December 20th

Dawn brought a winter wonderland scene of snow-flocked evergreens and a cloudless sky.  Sometime in the night it had actually warmed up to 16 degrees - a heat wave.  It was clear that at least another inch of snow had fallen during the night, bringing the total  to three or four inches over 24 hours.  There is nothing quite so lovely as a blanket of freshly fallen snow, sparkling in the sun.  It made me think of this same day, ten years ago, the day I arrived in Tucson to take up residence.  This is at odd place to be on that anniversary, at a high elevation cabin in the Colorado Rockies surrounded by snow, but there is a connection.  I’m here with the man, now my husband, who was my neighbor and the first person I met in Tucson, ten years ago today.  As they say, nowhere in my wildest dreams...

Arrival in Tucson, December 20th, 2001

Our cabin retreat, December 20th, 2011

At mid-morning we heard some sort of vehicle, the first we’d heard since our arrival.  We got out the front door just in time to see our neighbor, the site manager of the adjacent retreat, heading back down our drive plowing our road.  This is one of those things I so love about being here at the cabin and in such a remote location.  Neighbors are much more likely to lend a hand, and to do it without being asked or negotiation.  And it all works out.  My husband has helped this neighbor by teaching a few units of science to his home schooled kids, and I’ve baked the cookies that are the post-lesson treats.  We help other neighbors move wood and get hand carved bears in return.  Baked goods change hands, and there’s always a hot cup of tea or cold beer for anyone dropping by.  

Icing

By noon the temperature was just above freezing so we put on a few layers, boots and hats, got the coat on Bump and headed out for a walk.  With the long driveway cleared walking was easy and pleasant, and it felt good to move after being two days in the car and a snowy day inside the cabin.  We headed down the road enjoying our frisky dog’s antics and the warm sun on our backs.  Last summer’s fields of wildflowers were now carpeted in smooth snow, unmarked except for the occasional string of wildlife tracks.  Caps of snow helped define the rocky outcrops.  You could hear the creek gurgling under it’s iced-over top.  

Back at home after an easy two mile ramble it was, at 36 degrees, way too nice to go inside.  We decided to hang our one string of outdoor colored Christmas lights, and made a quick job of it, and still didn’t want to go inside.  I have little experience with snow aside from living in Michigan until I was nine years old, so I am alway surprised how sitting in a sheltered sunny spot in a snowy, near-freezing landscape can be so blissful.  Our south-facing porch is just such a spot on a calm day.  With the afternoon sun low in the sky we sat in sweaters on the Adirondack chairs, basking like lizards, soaking in the sun and were totally comfortable.  Even our once snow-phobic dog settled down in four inches of it just off the deck, laying in the sun.  But the minute the sun got near to setting behind the mountain across the valley, the sun’s rays diffusing through the tops of the pines and firs, we began to feel the chill.

A vegan dinner, the better to have more anniversaries

Retreating inside on this last day of fall, celebrating my arrival in Tucson and our first meeting, we made a dinner of roasted portobello mushrooms stuffed with a savory mix of brown rice, lentils, and cashews mixed with fresh parley and lemon thyme I’d harvested from our Tucson herb garden, and braised brussel sprouts.  We poured some wine and reminisced about the crazy set of circumstances that brought and kept us together.  Neither one of us could have imagined anything more unlikely, or so right.  It almost makes you believe in fate.  We count ourselves very, very lucky.

The Christmas Diaries, Part 3

Let it snow!

Deck the Halls, December 19th  

After a good 8+ hour sleep we woke up to clouds rolling in with the first few tiny snowflakes falling.  Before long the mountain across the valley disappeared in the snow and low clouds, and over the course of the day the snowfall increased, the light powder blowing off the trees and roof in displays of aerodynamic physics.  We put out seed feeders and a suet block for the birds, and didn’t have to wait long for them to show up.  Stellar’s Jays, Mountain Chickadees, White-breasted Nuthatches, Juncos, and and Downy Woodpeckers were soon sheltering in the ponderosa pines near the feeder.  The larger Hairy Woodpecker rode the suet block, hung from our hanging basket hook, like it was a Tilt-a-Whirl.

Bump the Snow Dog, decked out herself!

Homemade soup with Tina's great whole wheat bread

We spent the day reveling in being at the cabin, fortifying ourselves with good from-scratch food like oatmeal with tart dried cherries and toasted walnuts and a sturdy vegetable soup with red lentils and ruffled campanelle pasta eaten with a fantastic loaf of home-made whole wheat bread given to us by our Tucson friend, Tina.  We got out the Kindles and read by the fire, watching the snow swirl outside.  The temperature had descended all day, from 24 degrees at dawn to 11 degrees at bedtime -- and it was hard to get our desert dog, the one with no undercoat, but a real cute over-coat from L.L.Bean, to go outside to do the necessaries.  We all bundled up and took a few chilly walks to the top of the saddle, returning covered in snowflakes, and ready to warm up by the fire.  But we had one other “chore” to get done, one we’d been looking forward to...decking the halls.

Getting started with Frank Sinatra singing carols on the iHome

Last Christmas, for our first stay at the new cabin, we’d brought up a retro-style three-foot tall white Christmas tree with multi-color fairy lights and a tote full off decorations, some new, some old, and most from some fun scavenger hunts at Tucson thrift stores.  We’d loaded some favorite Christmas music on our iPod and played Frank Sinatra for me and John Denver and The Muppets for Bob...our respective traditional tree-trimming music from the days when we shared that job with our children.  With the tree up and decorated, the window sills festooned, and glittery snowflakes hanging throughout the cabin, we broke out some wine, and watched the snow in the fading light, the reflection of our tree hanging specter-like in the front window, merging with the darkening ponderosas outside.  

Finished

We ended the day continuing the Rummikub game we’ve been playing since May of 2006 (our first summer stay at the old trailer); at some point in the distant past I was ahead, but now I am hopelessly behind, but it’s fun and I get whining rights.  My husband is gently triumphant in his near constant victories.  We are nearing the bottom of the second side of the old steno-book page, a relic from Bob’s Dad’s court reporter days, and I wonder if it isn’t time to start anew.  Or, as Bob suggested, we could just get out Blokus and I could whip him consistently for a change.  At least I’m not throwing Uno cards across the table as I have been known to do, albeit with a smile on my face.

Ho, Ho, Home...

The Christmas Diaries, Part 1

Somewhere...yawn...along I-25 heading north to Albuquerque

Departure...Saturday, December 17th

After waiting for 10 weeks to return to the cabin, it seemed there was a great deal to do at the last minute.  I’d decided to provision everything we’d need for two weeks before leaving, and when I started packing I wondered if we’d be able to fit it into our Honda CRV.  In the end Bump, our dog, had to be content with just over half of the backseat, and we were on the road early than we’d expected.  The seven hour run to Albuquerque is, frankly, a little boring, but it was good to get there and get settled.  We did have a treat spotting Sand Hill Cranes both flying south and on the ground in open fields along the Rio Grande Valley.  We knew that soon after heading north the next morning, we’d hit the pinon pine forests, rolling hills, buttes and mesas around Santa Fe, and it would be great scenery for the rest of the trip.

Second Home for the Holidays

It is an embarrassment of riches, choosing which home in which to spend the holidays.  It is also a bit of a difficult decision, because both Tucson and the Colorado Rocky Mountain cabin have much to recommend them.

This is how Christmas in Tucson looks

In Tucson we have lots of friends, La Posada, the Pastorella, our giant dried agave flower stalk to decorate, the fun of our volunteer work at the Desert Museum with folks visiting from elsewhere, and the distinct possibility of a sunny and warm Christmas day.  Our traditional New Year's Eve is spent sitting on the west side of Gates Pass, perched on a boulder, watching the last sunset of the year.

This is how Christmas at the cabin looks

This year the cabin is winning out.  We have good friends we are looking forward to spending time with as well as family we hoping to see in Colorado.  We need a cabin fix to see us through until next summer, and its cosy space and wood-burning stove would be most welcome.  We're hoping for a slightly white Christmas and bracing weather (please not the minus 13 we had last year), and enough good days to get out and do some hiking.  Our plans include a Yule Log with our hopes and dreams for the future, as well as some things we'd like to let go, written on notes and attached to be burned New Year's Eve (though midnight is an unrealistic expectation for us).  We're even looking forward to the four days on the road -- we do road trips together well -- and one of our resolutions on that Yule Log will be to do better at the transitioning from one place to another, and to FULLY be wherever we are.

Here are some images of Christmas last year, our first at the cabin:

First dinner guests at the cabin, our dear neighbors from across the lake

The ubiquitous Stellar's Jay, waiting it out near the feeder

A walk in the snow near the cabin

The view from the hilltop behind the cabin

We hope that your holidays are spent where you most want to be with those whose company you most desire.  May the New Year bring you health, happiness, and fulfillment.