No matter how low key your celebrations, I know they’re more festive than ours at Casa River this year. Catching Covid and having to cancel our trip derailed our holiday plans and left us too sick to care. No tree, no gifts… though I am feeling better and will cook us a nice turkey dinner with all the trimmings today.
No biggie. I’m at the age where all our grand Christmas celebrations are in the past… and that’s fine.
I did see something that made my heart swell with spirit the other day though…
.
.
Now that’s my kind of tree topper!
.
.
Merry Christmas dear blog friends.
Here’s hoping your home is filled with food, family, fun and if you’re really lucky…. an owl.
Enough already Covid, it’s time for you to let go.
Day 8 for me… and though for the most part I’m better… the nagging cough, nasal congestion and overwhelming fatigue persist. Housework hasn’t been done, laundry is piling up and I can’t seem to find the energy to care.
I cook, cough, eat, blow my nose, do dishes, cough, and repeat.
Husband feels about the same, just a few days behind me. They say misery loves company but at this point I’d prefer to suffer alone and have him do some chores.
So here we sit, binging the entire 5 seasons of Yellowstone because my husband never saw it. He’s always late to popular series parties… but is enjoying the ride now.
I could say “you” but Mariah Carey already did and continues to do so entirely too much this time of year.
I used to be crazy for Christmas. I’d decorate everything that stood still.
.
.
.
.
Yes, even the Barn Mahal.
.
.
I shopped till I dropped searching for the perfect gifts. I’d spend a fortune on fancy wrapping paper and sparkling ribbons and give you something that was almost too pretty to open. I’d send 150 handwritten festive cards and host elaborate meals. Our tree was a magnificent thing to behold… always freshly cut, twinkling with alternating strands of red, green and white lights and festooned with gorgeous ornaments.
.
.
Even the cats were impressed.
.
.
There were carols playing, sweet baked treats on the table, mistletoe over the doorway, and I enjoyed every single thing about it.
Until I didn’t.
Until the beloved family members who shared my joy passed, one by one by one.
Until it all seemed like a terrible waste of money. And time. And effort.
My husband was raised poor, one of nine children for whom Christmas meant work and hand me downs. He always went along with my Xmas mania but never really felt it… so why was I bothering?
In 2015, a year after my mother died, I simply quit.
No tree, no gifts, no meals. I cut my card list back by 2/3rds, put some wreaths on the windows and called it good. We took a trip to the Pocono mountains to escape and enjoyed a stress free week that would become our new tradition. We’ve travelled every year since and never looked back with regret. The memories are gift enough.
In answer to the question, I don’t need anything and I don’t want anything. We have too much “stuff” already. What I want is what I already have, a nice home, a nice cat and the wonderful man I’ve shared my life with for the past 40 years.
It was barely 20 degrees and with the wind gusting it felt like 5… but we persevered.
.
.
If the trolls could take it, so could we.
.
.
It really was a beautiful way to spend an evening.
.
.
So many places to explore, each one prettier than the last.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
If you’re wondering why I have so many pictures of the lighted sea and lighthouse, it’s because my husband found someone to talk to and I had to wait for his conversation to finish.
We opted for a peaceful holiday this year, no travel no party no family, just a quiet day at home with a slow roasted turkey dinner.
And that’s where it went horribly wrong.
.
.
Because turkey’s not supposed to be green.
.
.
But ours was when I pulled it out of the fridge to cook this morning.
It was a fresh bird I purchased on the 20th with a sell by date of the 26th… but clearly the big storm that knocked out power last week claimed this gobbler as victim.
.
.
Good thing I made lasagna last night because it looks like it’s leftovers for us.
The Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens in Boothbay puts on a fantastic Christmas light show every year. We went years ago when they first started and having heard they’d grown bigger and better I decided we needed a return trip.
.
.
Bigger and better? Yes.
More crowded? Hell yeah. Judging from the steady flow of traffic, I think the entire state’s population was there.
The tiny parking lot had multiplied into lettered tiers and the small entry building had morphed into a massive welcome center.
.
.
It was well organized, fully staffed and with advanced ticketing required, had no lines or long waits to enter.
How much bigger was it than our previous visit?
.
.
Enough to require a map bigger.
.
.
In a word?
It was magical…
.
.
I’m not going to write a lot of commentary as it pretty much speaks for itself.
Just walk along with us and enjoy…
.
.
.
.
.
.
Did I mention there were giant wooden trolls?
.
.
.
.
The show only runs Thursday thru Sunday nights in December and has segmented entry hours. You have to reserve your spot weeks in advance as they sell out quickly. This means the weather is a crap shoot. Since it’s been unseasonably warm we weren’t worried…. until we woke up that day to 14 degrees and 35 mph winds.
Yeah, it was frickin’ freezing and we were bundled up like Nanook of the North and walking around with cups of hot chocolate to withstand the cold.
The year was 2015 and it was my first Christmas without my mother. I’m an only child, my father died when I was 15. Losing my mother hit me hard and I was feeling unhinged. Alone. And not at all in the holiday spirit. Decorating the house and hosting my husband’s ungrateful family was more than I could bear…. so I went to a travel agency, told them how much I wanted to spend and asked them to find me something interesting within driving distance.
Which is how we ended up spending Christmas week in the Pocono mountains of Pennsylvania.
We generally like our accommodations out of the way and quiet… and brother, that’s just what we got.
.
.
Welcome to the Pocono Manor Resort. A massive, secluded, surrounded by mountains and rolling hills, giant stone edifice I won’t ever forget.
It was dark and overcast when we arrived. Mountain fog surrounded the grounds and the silence was eerie. No cars in the parking lot, one dim light by the front entrance.
.
.
And while the interior was fully lit and beautifully decorated…
.
.
It was as silent as a tomb.
.
.
A very large tomb.
Built on 3,000 acres in 1902 as a summer vacation residence for wealthy New Yorkers, families lived here for months with no reason to leave. Boasting an 18 hole golf course, tennis courts, a full spa, riding stables, fly fishing pond, indoor and outdoor pools, multiple restaurants, game rooms, library, theater, and it’s very own post office with private zip code… it was a world unto itself.
And when we visited December of 2015?
We literally had the entire building to ourselves.
.
.
No, I’m not kidding. For the first 5 days of our week long stay it was just us … and every time I walked down this hall to our room? I expected to see the twins on tricycles because we were staying at the Poconos version of the Overlook Hotel.
.
.
Yes, there was staff.
Ghostly staff, because you hardly ever saw them.
.
.
We wandered room after room and never encountered a soul.
.
.
Every morning we had breakfast alone, in a room that probably seated 600.
Creepy?
You could say that.
.
.
We sat alone in the theater…
.
.
And watched It’s A Wonderful Life.
.
.
Hoping the lights would come back on when we were through.
.
.
Long, endless, empty hallways with only the sounds of our footsteps for company.
.
.
Ho! Ho! Holy Hell it was bizarre.
.
.
It was a place frozen in time, although it had just undergone a 5 million dollar renovation.
.
.
I never did manage to get a photo of the entire place…
.
.
You couldn’t really, it was too big.
.
.
But it was definitely a magical and quirky way to spend the holiday.
Sadly this amazing place caught fire and sustained substantial damage in 2019.
.
.
(not my pictures)
.
.
It’s been closed since then with various plans to rebuild.
.
.
Horror of all horrors? The latest developer to be interested is the Margaritaville Corporation who want to build a village of tacky housing.
.
.
They say they will “honor the memory” of the Manor but I don’t think plastic palm trees are going to cut it.
😰
Now it’s your turn.
Share a happy, funny or strange Christmas memory with me.
Have you ever seen something that was simply too perfect?
.
.
Okay, so it’s not a pear tree. But a partridge on your Christmas wreath is pretty damn close.
We had one of those beauties on our front lawn a few years ago.
.
.
I had no idea what it was and had to look him up in my bird watchers bible.
.
.
Native to the Middle East and southern Asia, the Chukar was brought as a game bird to North America, where it has thrived in some arid regions of the west. From late summer to early spring, Chukars travel in coveys, but they may be hard to see as they range through the brush of steep desert canyons. They become more conspicuous in spring, when the harsh cackling chuk chuk chukar of the territorial males echoes from the rocky cliffs.
They’re noisy little devils and if you’ve ever heard one… you’re not apt to forget it.
Remember when I found that adorable opossum site a while back and said I wanted one for a pet?
Well….
I found another site.
.
.
And now I think I need a raccoon as well.
.
.
As a Christmas gift it sure beats a toaster.
.
.
When my husband was young and living on the farm, his father rescued an injured baby raccoon that had been hit by a car. Not wanting to release it back in the wild because it limped.. they adopted him and named him Teddy.
Somewhere I have a picture of the hubs as a teenager lying on the couch with Teddy. Talk about cute!
.
.
❤️
.
Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.