Little Stories: 2015

On the Feast of the Holy Family, Part I

All the Christmases roll down toward the two-tongued sea, like a cold and headlong moon bundling down the sky that was our street; and they stop at the rim of the ice-edged, fish-freezing waves, and I plunge my hands in the snow and bring out whatever I can find. 

In goes my hand into that wool-white bell-tongued ball of holidays resting at the rim of the carol-singing sea. . .

-- Dylan Thomas, A Child's Christmas in Wales

When I read this passage to John about the abundance of snow in an idyllic childhood paradise, he asked "Where in Wales did Dylan Thomas grow up?  It snows here, like, one day a year."

Hiraeth, John, hiraeth.  ;)

It did, however, shed perpetual rain upon us like the end times on both Christmas and Boxing Day.  The two days there are no public transport.  We went nearly feral with stir-craziness.  Thank goodness things cleared up enough on Sunday to pack up quick as could be and shuttle off to Bangor.  I took Afon out for an extended walk over the straits to Anglesey and Church Island.

It didn't seem longer or farther than our custom of walking into Colwyn Bay from Old Colwyn, but it's taken me two days to recover.  My muscles are sore and my joints are aching and I've slept and slept almost incessantly since then.

These are all the photos I've developed for now.

Liturgical Lifestyle | Prepare the Way

1 & 2 // waiting for baby Jesus

3 // retro poster snagged at church, via Knights of Saint Columba

4 // the stockings were hung by the (chimney?) with care

5 // snowy scene

6 // Christmas clementines laid out for drying

7 // gift-wrapping

8 // there was plenty on the tree already, then I saw this red tinsel reminiscent of my childhood. . .

9 // the clay star Afon made in school functions as the Star of Bethlehem for our little creche

10 // embellished with a stick of cinnamon

11 // greenery

12 // almost full!

13 & 14 // cheeky!

And for those who are interested, my Christmas Eve dinner menu:

Chinese takeout.

Be merry, ya'll!  Nadolig llawen!  (That's "Happy Christmas" in two languages!)  ;)

Linking up with Like Mother, Like Daughter.

My Week in #7QT

My second godchild was baptized on Saturday.  John watched both Afon and Roan and let me slip away with just the family to a hidden Capuchin monastery in the Welsh hills that I didn't even know existed.  Our godson is the fifth son of friends of my husband's family.  Now I have two godchildren to pray for!

Safe to say Afon ate all of the chocolate coins Saint Nicholas brought and left the oranges.  The ceramic birdy and tea bag holder are for Mama and Daddy, respectively.  ;)

Wrote out most of my Christmas cards.  Now I just have to mail them (and therein lies the rub!).

An mid-week Advent visit to the church.

We attended Afon's Christmas pageant (in British speak, a pantomime), in which he played a star.  He was supposed to sing "Twinkle Twinkle" with the other stars, but he was too busy looking around.  Then he clapped when the audience applauded.  Yep, that's my special boy!

His is not a Catholic school, so I was surprised at the explicit appearance of baby Jesus and the other characters from the Christmas story, wise men and the like.  Goes to show how "the war on Christmas" is nonexistent in this country.  People say "happy Christmas," and no one is offended at the mention of it instead of the generic holidays.  State religion for the win?  (I kid!)  But somewhere, somehow, they're on to something.  Americans just like to feel entitled and/or offended by EVERYTHING.

After the pantomime, we were informed Afon had head lice.  Joy.

So, fun times.  (Fortunately, we were able to nip that in the bud before it became our fourth household epidemic.)

I was traveling along the shore and saw these birds soaring over the roof of the abandoned pier.  They glided just like a school of fish.

Rolling with the Takers at Written by the Finger of God.