If You think the milk business entry was long, talking about Christmas over the last 60 years will take some time too.
I started this entry as a blog in 'New Life'. After it went on for several feet I thought it more appropriate to edit it for there and do the long version here, so you might feel you've heard some of this before, but it won't be the first time I've repeated myself.
Christmas in the 60's was a magical time. When I was a kid the sure sign Christmas was close was when the Sears Catalog came in the mail. The two, three, eventually four of us would take the catalog and either fold down pages where we wanted something or show it to our mother at a time usually she was busy cooking dinner or something like that.In the Catalog there was always a ham radio set up. It was always one of the most expensive gifts in the catalog. Every Year I would always tell my mother I wanted it and she would always say it was too expensive. Looking back on it, what the hell was I thinking I was going to do with it. The Ad made it look so cool, but how much fun would it have been on Christmas day to use?
The next Sign Christmas was coming was a pine tree appearing in our backyard. I guess my Dad would pick one out from a place he passed on his route, or maybe, more likely he knew someone and they sold/gave it to him. The Tree would seem to sit outside for ever. Some Years it would snow and how were we going to bring the tree in all covered with snow and would all that snow ruin the tree? Finally my Mother would start to move around the furniture, a sure sign Christmas was coming. The tree is up, now the trip to the attic to bring the ornaments down.
When I was young, a trip to the Attic was like going to a whole different world. It was strange, different and not easy to get to. To start the Trip, the cellar door is opened. Four Steps down to a small landing, where the back door was at one time, then half a dozen stairs further down into the darkness where all the monsters of your childhood resided was the dark cellar. Back at the top of the stairs on the Right wall leaning against the upper landing and the top step was the ladder. Two thin pieces of wood with slats cut in them for steps. The Ladder leaned quietly in it place, a veteran of many trips between the top cellar step and the upper landing to the attic. When the Ladder is put in place, I swear it will fall between it's two points and tumble down into the black hole of the cellar, the Creatures of the cellar would chuckle at your misfortune, looking forward to scaring you in their darkness.
My Mother puts the Ladder of death, it's top angled to fit comfortably against the edge of the upper landing, A wave of amazement flows over me that it is not too short. Mom climbs up the ladder first, saying something about only one person on the ladder at a time. What does She know that she is not telling me. Her Voice is muffled and distant, blood is flowing fast and thick in my ears. A steady thumb of my heart is all I hear as I take a test step onto the bottom rung. In the distance my Older Brother says something about a chicken, I don't understand. The Ladder wobbles a little left and right. It knows it has a five year old virgin in it grasp. I look down at the suddenly distant steps to the cellar.The Shelves against the wall on the left starting at the lower landing disappear into the darkness of the cellar. Full Shelves filled with can goods tended by survivors of the great depression fill my vision. Halfway to the upper landing with the kitchen floor too far away to touch and the upper landing still out of reach the Ladder of Death smiles at me. It shakes back and forth, a distant voice is talking about a chicken again and he sounds impatient. The Ladder gives a heavy shake, I brace for the fall into the darkness of the Cellar and the creatures living there. My older brother has gotten on the ladder and wants me to move quicker. I hear screaming, it must be my mother screaming, the ladder of death is giving away she is going to lose both of her children. I hear the words, 'Get off the ladder, it's going to fall. It gets louder and suddenly I realize I am screaming like a girl at my brother. He attempts to push past me, but the horror of my brother going first is worse then the ladder falling. I scramble up the ladder onto the upper landing. Being up there feels no safer then the ladder. The Upper Landing is crowded with stuff that didn't quite make it up into the attic. It gets more crowded when my brother get up there. The next part of my journey is scary and a little tricky. There is a small homemade ladder on the wall to the right, which I am to climb, it's short, but once I am up about two feet, I must turn to the right and head above were the ladder is. So if I slip from the short ladder and miss the upper landing I would assuredly hit the ladder, breaking it and tumble down into the dark of the cellar and the creatures in the dark. I hesitate and my brother pushes in front and climbs up saying something about a baby could do this. I slowly stand on the first rung of the ladders three steps. I can look down into the wall cavity and I briefly wonder if someone could fall down there and get stuck. I reach for a hand hold and realize the only thing I have to grab to steady myself is the floor. I bend at the waist plastering myself to the floor, my legs stumbling for the second rung. When I find it I claw at the fibers of an old rung and haul myself over the edge. I'm not William Parry arctic explorer, but I've reached the summit and it's an amazing place. A World unknown to me. The chilly Air mixes with the smell of Old Books and Toys put into storage and forgotten about. My Mission is to retrieve Christmas ornaments. A medium sized box is shoved into my hands. It says Tree ornament 1962. It's crossed out and Village 1964 is written below it. I examine the box, it is familiar. It is the box the Christmas Turkey comes in my Dad's job gives away each year. There are several old Turkey boxes filled with ornaments for the tree. The Boxes are piled in front of our exit, yes it is time to retrace your journey. Do You remember climbing somewhere and when it was time to go back down you can't remember how you got up there making it impossible to get down? My older Brother jumps off onto the landing. I imagine the words, "Geronimo" come out of his mouth. He lands with a thud on the upper landing. My Mother goes next telling my brother and I to hand the boxes down to her. She climbs down the ladder it shakes, but does not fall. I gently make my way down onto the landing being careful to place each foot securely onto the next step. I look for places to grab onto . Several years from now a carpenter will put some wood near where I'm going down that make excellent hand holds, but now all I can do is hold onto the floor and hope for the best. The upper landing has never seemed so far away. I blindly stretch out a foot, further and further. The Landing seems to move further and further away. A Toe comes into contact with the wood. tension and fear are replaced by relief. I will not fall today and die.
In all the years I went up and down the ladder no one ever fell.
The Christmas tree needs to have a fresh cut to help it take in water during it's two or so weeks it will be up. A fight between my brother and I over who will get to cut the tree was a tradition almost as much as going up stairs to get the decorations. My Brother, being the oldest usually got to cut the stump. In later years it would be mine to do until it was passed to my younger.
Inpatients was as much a part of the holiday as gift giving. After the tree was in its stand, my Mother had to make sure it was straight and all the L bolts in the stand were turned as tight as possible. Then a rope or string, whatever was found was used to tie the tree to a nail that had been put in the wall specially for the purpose. A step back was taken to admire the job, the smell of pine filling the air. Was the Tree tilting any, did it look safe. Had to make sure if the cat jumped into the tree it wouldn't tip over.
It always seemed easier to set up and decorate the tree. Opening Boxes of ornaments, finding the exact right spot for each, with the joy of Christmas still in the distance, but growing closer. Boxes with Young Tom Turkey embossed on the side, gifts for the Thanksgiving tables of the past from my father's employer filled with all the trimmings of Christmas would be gathered from the attic and piled in front of the tree. A box filled with the village. Houses, a church and light that would light up the houses memories from my mother's childhood. A box with the nativity. Camels, one with a broken leg, wisemen, shepards, Jesus Mary and Joseph. I always wondered what Joseph felt about all of this, his wife giving birth to the son of God. Did he ever wish God had picked someone else?
In the boxes of ornaments were all the traditional ones we'd had for years. Ones my mother had made, a few my dad had brought and some real old ones my mom said were my fathers from when he was young. It's funny in the 60's we bought some cheap ornaments to put low on the tree so that if the dogs hit them and broke them it would be OK. Now fifty odd years later they are some of the ornaments I treasure the most.
I've told this story before, but it belongs here too. Back when I moved out of my parents house my mother gave me one of my father's ornaments his family would ut on their tree. I don't know anything about them except they are old. I don't even know if they went on his tree or if they were from Uncle Willie's tree. All I know is they were considered old when I was a kid and when my mom gave me one back in the nineties I vowed to keep it safe for ever. Ever year I would put it up on my tree and when I got married I'd put it up on my wife's and my tree. Then we adopted the girls and I put it proudly on our family tree. Now what happened in about 2015-16 was going to happen one day and Nastia there is never a time I blamed you for what happened. It could have happened to anyone including me. In fact one year it did, but the ornament hung on long enough for me to grab it.
I think it was 2015, might be another year. We were decorating the tree. Nastia picks up an ornament that is near my dad's. The hook of one of them catches on the other. Like I said it happened to me. This time as the hooked ornaments come up, they seperate and my dad's ornament flies off and hits the hardwood floor shattering into a million pieces. I look at it disbelieving it has shattered so completely. I knew right away what has happened and that it was no ones fault. Nastia is real sorry and apologises to me. I know it is a mistake and I'm not mad, but yes I am sad. It was something I wanted to keep forever, but my daughters are more important than that ornament.
In the 60's there were two types of bulbs that were used during Christmas. The Large bulbs, about half the size of a banana were the outside only bulbs. The smaller ones about the size of the size of a good sized grape were for the tree. The Colors were the basic, green, red and blue. Sometime in the early 60's bubble lights were added to the lights on the tree. I could look at a decorated tree, watch the lights blink softy on and off. The Bubble Lights in red, blue, green and yellow bubbling away. Occasionally You'd go over and straighten a Bubble Light that had tilted and wasn't bubbling. They like pinwheel cookies became symbols and to this day invoking warm memories of early Christmases. I remember sitting on the old Couch in the old living room with my mother watching the newly finished tree. It was a magical time.
I went to West Nyack Elementary school. Every year the school put on a Christmas play. In it all the kids would sing songs. I always hated it. I didn't like getting up in front of groups of people and having their attention on me. But each year just like Christmas, there was the Christmas play. We also did a Christmas event in Church each year. It was more religious. The play was in the evening near the last day before we had our break. The break was from a few days before Christmas until the Monday after New Years. It was freedom from getting up too early and it meant Christmas was ever so close.
One year, I must have been four or five my Dad takes me and Karl to go Christmas shopping. We go to John's Bargain Store in Central Nyack. It was located just past Waldron Avenue on the right in the set back strip mall. You enter and the store was filled with wooden bins of toys. I'm sure there were other things there, but I was a kid and all I was interested in were toys. The three of us went one night and my Dad helped us pick out gifts. I don't remember much except realizing to our horror that Karl and I had given my mother the same gift, a night gown. How could our father let us do that. I don't remember ever trying to do something about it. And of course it was one night gown and it was from both of us.
Christmas eve filled with so much anticipation
Setting up the Christmas Tree has become a chore. Way back in the before time (When is that?, Well I guess that was when it was fun to put up the Christmas Tree) it was fun to put up the tree.
Since I have known Teri, she has had something against putting up Christmas Trees. The first year We were together, my Mom gave her a small tree put put up in her apartment. It was a foot or so tall, fake and of little bother. She at first didn't want to take it. She thought since she was not celebrating Christmas their it was not necessary to have any Christmas decorations. She took the tree and put it up in her cramped little Apartment.
I'd been out of my mother's house for a few years before I met Teri and I'd had a Christmas Tree every year and begun collecting Hallmark ornaments for the tree. More about that later. The Trees had always been real and full sized. My Mother gave me some ornaments for the family collection to start me off. I chose several of the ornaments that I had memories of putting up on the tree. A bird with faded paint, some thin glass ornaments that when they were bought were felt best put on the bottom of the tree so if the animals knocked them off and broke them who cares. They now held a place of value in my heart. The most important one was an ornament so old the writing was barely legible. It was silver and one of m,y Dad's. I wrote in another blog, in an other life about how I imagined it came to the family and then how It was given to me by my mother and several years ago broken purely by mistake. One of those events, that no matter how you spin it could of happened to you, it just happened to someone else.
Teri's and my First Christmas together she suggested we not have a tree. "Why have one when We are not going to be here" She said. A Valid point, but I wanted one and I needed one. It wouldn't be festive without one. So We got one. It was a real tree and Teri didn't like the mess of it. Needles falling off it every day, watering it every day and the fire hazard. We came to a compromise, fake one year, real the next. We did it for a few years until one year I thought, "Man real trees are a pain. let's go fake." so We did.
The Fake Tree we used for years required you to put up a three piece center pole, then take a lower branch, smooth out the needles and limbs, then put it in the correct slot. Each Branch took several minutes to straighten after it had spent eleven months in a bag.
A new Tree was purchased two years ago. It has two separate strings of lights already hung on it and all you have to do is set up the three pieces of the tree, the branches are pre-hung along with the lights. Of course, you still have to smooth out the needles and branches.
This piece was not supposed to be the length of 'War and Peace' so I am sorry I have rambled.
On the night We,Teri decided to set up the tree, a discussion between Teri and I erupted, yes discussions can erupt. It centered on the thought from Teri that the Tree had to be put up on this night.(December 9) before it got too late.
In fairness We have done a bad job of getting decorations up in a timely manner. We scoff at the people who put them up just after Halloween, We laugh at the amateurs who insist just before Thanksgiving is acceptable. "Fools!!" We decry, "How can You have the Christmas spirit when we have not even celebrated the day of giving thanks declared by Abe Lincoln, himself after the Civil War!" "Cynics, money lenders, Store Owners you all...." I guess I've gone off topic again, sorry.
After all that decrying, suddenly it's the week before Christmas and We are the only Christian house without lights. Even the Jew have their Hanukkah lights up. So in our hast We put up some lights on the house, never the way it was planned, try to stick stakes in the frozen ground to hold down the light up deer (really feel Christmasey doing that) and finally the tree gets up. After it is all up and We sit back, we wonder why we waited and didn't do it sooner. Ah, life is funny.
Well, Teri wants to put up the tree on December 9th, Sunday. It had not been a day of rest for me. I started cookie baking because just like the Christmas tree, cookies never seem to get baked like they did back when I was a kid and my mom would set aside a day to do it with us. I started out with my Christmas cookie, the pinwheel cookie. I don't know how or why I associate this non denominational cookie with Christmas except it was baked around Christmas one year and I guess I loved it and decided I needed to have it again when I thought about cookies for Christmas the next year. After that I made Russian nut balls. The Name get Nastia's attention until she hears nuts are in them. Crazy Kids, one day she will grow up and realize life is incomplete without some nut, relatives or from a tree, it doesn't matter. I thought I was making Teri's favorite Christmas cookie, it was not her's it was her sister's, opps. And finally I made Raspberry chocolate bars, but I put all of the raspberry jam into Nastia's cheesecake that I had, so I used Blackberry Jam. It was almost as good.
So I guess after all of that I was tired. Plus We went to see a real good movie called......
S
