Memories from a German-Oregonian Christmas
I am 3,000 miles away from the only home I have ever known. Sunshine and thunderstorms. Spiky-legged cockroaches. Spanish moss. My partner of 7 years is gone. He ran back to a stale comfort of well-worn days and familiar ghosts. I am soft and unknown here, but somehow love is pouring into my life and I cannot stop smiling.
Afloat on champagne and hash, I spent the snow kissed sunset crafting a raw Christmas Eve feast for a house full of beer blushed faces. When night fell, we marveled at the exquisite bounty before us, piled high in hand painted Polish stoneware my friend has been collecting for years.
Later with bellies brimming, we drank elderberry cocktails and sang in starlight.
Succulents, saxifrages, and dwarf conifers hibernate in greenhouses, awaiting the charmed warmth of spring that will tease out their lusty flowers. A bonsai tree, strung with lights, was given space to nurse a mountain of socks so lovingly wrapped by my mother. Santa paper. Snowmen. Plastic bows.
The wild turkeys, fat and free, love compost in the morning. I followed their tracks through the powdered snow.
- ► 2009 (11)
- ▼ 2008 (20)