The White Christmas Tree

I have ignored my blog and my poetry during the pandemic, just as I have abandoned a thousand other tasks and items. The pandemic came when I, along with my family, were still reeling from the unexpected death of my father. Many people became very  productive in March of 2020, but our one burst of busyness resulted in a few "Marie Kondoed" closets and a half-clean garage.

I miss my extended family and work family, teaching face-to-face, and travel. I am a huge fan of a long weekend adventure. I did immerse myself into the election and watched some college football. But, I miss being in "Death Valley" in Clemson, SC on game day.

One way in which the House on Greenbrier has been surviving, has been to ignore tradition. Nothing is the same now, but if you have control over the change, you can gain a sense of power. We observed the Thanksgiving meal with my mother early, and we eschewed the traditional turkey for ham. Then at the Krauss house we had a delicious roast duck for Thanksgiving.  For Christmas, we have chosen to not have a live Christmas tree, as we have done forever. Instead, the most beautiful, gawdy, and bold white tree sits in our livingroom. 

Being a poet, I will find some symbolism in this dazzling spectacle. She is my family and me. She is standing tall in all her glory proclaiming that we will get through this storm. There will be face-to-face teaching, there will be family gatherings at my mom's house, I will hang out with my work family, and as this short little blog shows-there will be writing. Stories to be told.