Blue Moon Wedding

Once in a blue moon, someone gets married on December 31 under the second full moon of the month. In this case, not quite under the moon; that would've been a rather wet, unpleasant scenario. Whereas the festivities inside were lovely and warm. I confess to getting teary when our friend Bruce read a tribute his daughter, Victoria. The look on her face says it all.

with Victoria and her mum, my friend Joann

Fraser

We typically get our Christmas tree on December 13, which is the feast day of St. Lucia. ("Lucia" meaning "light", which to me brings to mind the candle light and the lights on the tree.) This year, it fell on a Sunday, and also coincided with our only snowfall so far this season (long since melted). Lovely, fat flakes drifted down all morning while we were in church; just enough to cast River's Edge Tree Farm, our usual destination, in a veil of white. That dusting of snow on the trees; misty clouds hanging low over the Mount Baker foothills; eagles soaring over the river. All very picturesque. Almost enough so to ignore the bickering, cold feet/hands complaints, and difficulty in finding a good-looking Fraser fir. Almost.

But find one we did, and it's been as lovely as ever. Heading outside; cutting our own tree; bringing that divine look and smell into our home (and Frasers are such good house guests, never dropping needles)...All of this is one of my very favorite traditions. The gifts have been opened, but to my mind, they're secondary. I could sit in the front livingroom, looking at the tree for weeks ~ and still have some time to do so, since it stays with us until Epiphany (January 6).

Per Marten

Twelve years ago, on a crisp, sunny December morning, the birth of our second child was imminent. I wondered aloud if I'd be able to love this baby as much as I loved my first. I pondered mothering two little people. I contemplated what to name this new person. (We never decided those "trivial" matters ahead of time!) And when, after my typically difficult labor process that culminated in a c-section, our baby entered the world, we called him Mats.

Yes, our second son, Mats, was born on December 18, 1997.

The nurses in the recovery room oohed and aahed over the wee one's lush, dark hair and nice coloring.

"What's his name?" they asked smilingly.

"Mats...?" I answered with a question mark. "I think."

They nodded their heads and asked, still in smiling tones, "You think? What's the other choice?"

"Well, how about Per?"

"Yes! That's perfect. Much better. Per sounds great!"

So Per it was and Per it is. Changing a baby's name based on the recovery room nurses' reactions may seem odd. But less odd than having everyone in the operating room, during surgery, vote between three name choices. More about that on Kai's next birthday. : )

Ending Autumn

Post-Thanksgiving, we move into Advent, and embrace December. Still autumn, but winter is nearly upon us. This is the season for...

Mucking about at McLane Creek with Oma & Opa.
Observing spawning salmon and wondering, as always, at their incredible homing instinct.

ZooLights! Lynden's Lighted Christmas Parade

Sinterklaas...who brought some pretty nifty hats this December 6.

And last minute attempts at a family photo worthy of tucking in with Christmas cards.

A tribute of sorts to my brother, the cop.

How much do I love my brother, Kevin? Enough to share, for the second time, this photo of the two of us ~ despite my vanity. On this day, we'd run a race together ~ which on my part, at least, is saying a lot since I typically avoid running with other people. But it felt comfortable with Kevin. I only wish that I didn't look, in this picture, like a 50 year old woman with a fake tan. After all, I'm only (?!) 40 and my aged skin is a result of many years of devoted sun worship, thankyouverymuch!

But I digress.

After spending ten years as a military policeman in the Air Force, Kevin moved on to work as a sheriff's deputy and police officer, and he excels at his work.

I don't really see Kevin a great deal, or talk to him very often, although he lives within a few hours' drive. But last Friday and Saturday, after spending Thanksgiving at our parents' home, I was able to hang with him. And then on Sunday, I took my boys to the church I attended as a teen. Advent is upon us, and the service revolved around that theme: Looking toward what is to come. Knowing that the world as we know it is not the be-all, end-all. Thank God for that.

While we were worshipping, four police officers were gunned down nearby as they had their pre-shift morning coffee. Four of Kevin's colleagues. Four people who did their work, as Kevin does his, knowing that there's no such thing as a routine call. Or a routine cup of coffee, apparently.

Thanks for your service, Kevin. I'm proud of you. I love you.