I've Seen Fire and I've Seen Ice

Oh, the weather outside is frightful,

But the fire is so delightful,

And as long as you love me so,

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

Fire and ice. Funny how often opposite things go together so well. Happens with people, too. I expect that many children, especially grown ones, think that about their parents and wonder how the hell that particular union ever happened. And yet, it did, and here we are, replete with the memories, scars, laughter, and sadness of it all, proving what? The fire and ice combo worked anyway?

Yep. Life works. And Christmas comes around once a year. Last year, Jim and I didn't really have Christmas. We hung the wreathes Mom got when we moved here on the front porch, but no tree, no lights, no ho ho ho. Of course, we had presents, but we didn't do the trappings, and we truly didn't didn't miss them.

But this year I got the tree bee back in my bonnet. The pagans had it right early on -- the tree's the thing. This year I wanted a tree, and if I'm gonna spend good money on a dang dying tree, I'm gonna enjoy it for a solid month. Since our tree comes down no later than December 27, that means -- we put up our tree on November 30. Yikes.

It's beautiful! They always are. There's nothing like the smell, the lights, the feeling of a Christmas tree in the house. I put under it the toys from childhood I still have -- my Tiny Tears doll, Toodles; my one-eyed, eye-patched teddy bear Little Teddy; and my stuffed black lamb Cherry. (Hey, it has a pink pom-pom tail; what would you have named it -- Blackie?)

I put out a few other decorations from my family that I love, but we don't go whole hog. Just enough. I'm confident we'll get the snow, but it's still all not complete without a fire.

We only lived in Minnesota until I was about 5, so I don't remember if we had a fireplace. The small house we lived in in Grandview, Missouri, didn't have one either. But from the time Dad built us a house on 80 glorious acres outside the tiny town of Lone Jack, we had a fireplace. Mama insisted. She was from Texas, and she'd been COLD ever since she married Dad. Think fire and ice. Think opposites.

And when we moved into the Lee's Summit school district, Dad built us another house with a fireplace. One of my most vivid memory snapshots is of Mama warming her backside and hands in front of the fire. Even in Austin, Texas, where I lived for 30 years, I almost always had a fireplace. I'd play Tricky Dick and crank up the AC just to have a fire when I wanted one.

So we moved to Colorado into a house without a fireplace. I missed it...the dancing flames; the snap, crackle, and pop of the logs; the heat; the fire. Not anymore!!

Jim got me a fireplace -- for our TV. (I know, I know. Save it. I asked for it.) It's great! I put the DVD on full fire loop, and it cycles through a complete fire, from fire-up to embers. Yes, it even dances, crackles, and pops.

So this year for the Christmas season, here's what I'm doing almost constantly, since I work at a home office: I'm sitting in front of my gorgeous, real, Noble fir, with all the other lights off in the house, enjoying my fake fire, sipping Mouton Cadet red, and listening to Mike Metheny's beautiful version of "I'll Be Home for Christmas" on iTunes on our Mac. (You can get it on a Leonard Brothers CD....or ask me!)

If I'm working, I wait on the wine. And more than once, I've been surprised to hear a log fall in the fireplace, and I look up to make sure it hasn't popped sparks onto the floor.

And you know, if the plasma TV's been on long enough and/or you drink enough wine, even though you can't roast any chestnuts, you can still stand real close to the fire and warm your backside and your hands.

It's a hoot!!