Traditions and Memories

As the years go by, I find I have largely forgotten many of the old traditions my Mother kept alive for her children.  Yet I have remembered St. Nicholas Day on December 6 for ever...and I believe it was because my Mother, by her awesome storytelling ability, ingrained this one very deeply within me.

December 6 was more fun for me than Christmas. Perhaps it was because it began the Christmas season and the lovely attendant  anticipation, way back when I was small.


My mother would begin by reminding me that St. Nicholas was on his way, about two weeks before the actual date.  She would tell me our home would have to be sparkling clean...and that included my room.

I was notorious for stuffing clothing, books, shoes and toys under my bed. This was the one time of the year when I made sure to drag each item out from under the bed and put them in their proper place. I recall so well feeling as if St. Nicholas was in the room with me...I did not dare shirk my duties.


My mother told me I had to polish my shoes. As a young child, I was not sure how to go about polishing shoes. And I remember dowsing my patent leather shoes in a tub of water, because I thought this was the way to make sure they were really clean. It took days for them to dry out; the patent leather was not ever the same.

I was terribly afraid these shoes, almost brand new and bought for the Christmas season, would end up with a piece of coal in them rather than the goodies I had received in previous years.


You see, on St. Nicholas Day, those same shoes, clean and now a little cracked, would be placed on the window sill. I would draw a picture for St. Nick and put it in one of the shoes...and in the other shoe was my list for Christmas. And there was a plate of carrots for St. Nicholas' white Horse.

But it was not only clean shoes and a clean house St. Nicholas looked for, when he travelled from home to home. He apparently, my mother told me, had a very large Book in which all children's behaviour, good and bad, had been chronicled, never to be forgotten.

I couldn't begin to imagine it. But I wanted that Book.  A budding writer and voracious reader even so long ago, I thought that Book St. Nicholas had would give me years of enjoyment, as long as I did not look up my name. Even now, my heart races a little at the thought I might ever find the tell-all Book...and my name.



It was all I thought about.  I visualized St. Nicholas leading his Horse through the Snow, holding tight to The Book.  And when he came to a house, he would open it wide, and find the resident child's name. Depending on that child's behaviour, he would either place a piece of coal in the shoe or he would fill it with amazing chocolate goodies.


I would bother my mother, possibly non-stop, about The Book.  Was her name in it? Yes, she replied. Had she ever received any coal? Perhaps, she would say...she couldn't quite remember.  But she had once had a friend who received coal year after year!


My eyes as wide as saucers, I clamoured to know more about my mother's friend.  Why did she receive coal year after year? Well, my mother explained, she just could not be good.  She could not remember her manners, she wore stained and dirty clothing (to my mother, cleanliness was next to godliness) and her shoes were forever covered in mud!


Well.  Upon hearing the news about this unfortunate girl, I wandered away to digest what I had heard. Then, as well as now, I needed time to think...to run through all the scenarios in my mind...to come up with more questions for my beleaguered Mother.


Hmmm. I remembered how my shoes could get covered in mud...sometimes even my socks! And my clothing could certainly get stained and dirty. My manners were not all that great, either. I was shy and quiet...greetings to other people were not my strong point...I'd hide behind my mother, mostly.


I had some fearful thoughts that my name would have that black mark against it, in St. Nicholas' Book.


I went back to my mother. What if, I said with great anxiety, what if my name had a black mark against it?


My mother did not let me off the hook.  She said, We'll have to wait and see.


Her answer kept me very good...I outdid myself in keeping clean, remembering my manners, staying out of mud...


That is, until St. Nicholas arrived and filled those pretty, patent leather shoes to the brim with the much coveted chocolate. There was nary a lump of coal to be found!


I stayed good for a week or two, after December 6, but my memory for continuing that goodness faded after awhile, and I went back to wallowing in the mud.

The whole scenario happened again when the Christmas season began, shortly after St. Nicholas Day. Santa Claus, according to my mother, also wanted children to be good.


But for me, Santa never had the same clout as St. Nicholas...he only kept a list.  He didn't have that big, black Book.


The tradition faded as I grew older.  I tried to implement it with my children, but they were far more sophisticated than I...they knew inherently they would receive candy in their shoes.

Black Book or no. 


Note:  The top photo is me at the approximate age of three with Santa Claus.

A Scent of Pineapple

I struck up a conversation with a woman as we were waiting in the Dentist's office the other day. As is common, we began by discussing the weather.

The weather here in the Cariboo has felt a little strange, lately. In October, there were occurrences of Arctic Air, which dropped our temperatures well into the minus category. We had Snow, which I would have enjoyed much more, had I known it was only going to last a day. Then the Rains came, in fits and starts, along with much warmer and Sun-filled weather.

The lady shook her head, as we talked about the anomalies we were experiencing. She is keen on snowmobiling and Ice fishing; she felt with the lack of cold weather, perhaps her hobbies would not be available this year.

She said...What will I do during the long Winter, if there is no Snow or Cold, to freeze the Lakes?

Quite honestly, I did not know how to reply to her comment. A Winter without Snow is right up my alley...I would be ecstatic if this were to occur!

We discussed the Coast, from where I have recently moved. I told her a Winter without Snow was quite common there, and the Snow which did fall rarely lasted long, although last year the Coast received an Arctic blast, which included much Snow. I told her, as well, that the warmer temperatures we have enjoyed lately remind me so much of Fall days on the Coast, where I would be planting bulbs and enjoying the Fall colour.

Of course, she knew all this, as she had cousins who had moved South to Vancouver Island. And she told me they would call and tell her they were mowing their lawns as early as February. She would tell them, in return, of the beautiful, blue, sunny days here in the Cariboo, where she could ride her snowmobile for miles and miles, without fear of Rain. But, she reiterated, she couldn't do this without Snow...

Later, sitting in the dentist's chair, I mused about our differences, a born and bred Cariboo resident and me...an Island girl.

To me, there is no doubt both places are beyond beautiful. Mother Nature has outdone herself in the province of BC. She has carved and smoothed Valleys and Mountains, Rivers, and Lakes. She has molded the beaches and craggy cliffs for the Pacific Ocean, which laps all along the shore. She has built high, semi-arid plains and plateaus...there is a place in the Chilcotin which I swear cracks my heart a little, each time I visit.

In so doing, she has built a Land which has a place to please everyone's wishes and desires, as she honours our differences.

I think about how I have recently felt I am beginning to know and understand the Cariboo and her people. I have lived here almost two years; during that time I have gained a little knowledge of the Land and its weather.

I consider...would I really understand a Winter here without Snow and the attendant Cold? It would feel strange. This is not the Cariboo way, it is the Island way. Some people who have lived here all their lives have built their livelihoods around Winter and his playground.

While I...I have built my life around green gardens and walks along a wind-swept beach, with scudding black clouds in the distance, promising Rain. On the Coast, there is always the promise of Rain...

So, of course, Rain and the soft, southerly Wind is completely known and welcomed by me. It is what I hanker for; sometimes I will go out onto the deck to fully embrace the lashings of Water thrown at me by that gracious South Wind, as she takes me back to the beaches of the Island.

At the same time, I have learned to love the extremes I experience in the Cariboo. I feel as if the inhabitants here are as attuned to the Land as I am. People here, it seems to me, have learned to listen, gaining knowledge and therefore, power over the extremes. They know each Season well. They know what to expect.

And through innocuous conversations such as this one and others, I am learning to accept, if not exactly embrace, the length, breadth and Cold of the Winter Season.

But. As I told the lady in the dentist's office, right now, today, I am enjoying unseasonably warm, lovely weather.

And...right now, today, I am going for a walk outside, to sniff out the scent of Pineapple on the breeze.

Winter will arrive soon enough.

Spirits

When we first moved here, quite often I would notice movement and sometimes actual figures in the near periphery of the boxes I was attempting to unpack. I felt no fear of these strange sightings, or powerless...but I remember wondering who they all were. And why were they converging on me?


Most were dressed in old-fashioned clothing...I recall one in particular who wore what appeared to be tan coloured canvas pants, thick brown boots, and a heavy, woollen brown coat.  He was bent under a backpack tied to his back, and he carried a long, wooden stick...I can see him in my mind's eye now, as I write this.


He smiled at me when he appeared, for only a few moments. I smiled back. There seemed to be little else I could do...

But I was left shaking my head in wonder and awe, as his figure disappeared from sight. And eventually, I took the sightings for what they were...a true welcome to a part of the country I had not even visited before.


At the beginning, there was a flurry of sightings.  After a bit, these began to fade and it became rare to catch a glimpse of these amorphous Spirits.

And so I felt perhaps the sightings were over, although I still continued to be conscious there were Spirits about. Even for the Cariboo,where wildlife is abundant, I managed to connect with an amazing number of wild animals.


And quite often, those animals did strange things, things uncharacteristic of a wild animal's behaviour. Each and every occurrence left me awestruck. I noticed my faith...my belief in a Universal connection to all beings...becoming stronger, even more deeply entrenched.


There are signs throughout the property of someone practicing their spirituality. Boulders in certain areas, within well-defined circles of smaller Stones, are palpable in their energy which radiates outward with great warmth towards the receiver.


I have found small Stones placed on stumps or Rocks. I feel, because of their placement, they denote East and West, North and South. Beyond this, what each Stone represents is left to the imagination and sure knowledge.


With the big, tall Fir trees surrounding our home, it feels like a natural cathedral, especially when Sun eases his long fingers into the Forest and caresses each branch...lighting it from within. It is very easy for me to see how there may have been ceremonies, ancient or otherwise, here, then...

I am not the only one, here in this home, who senses other beings. Our two Dogs become strangely cowed when a visitor(s) manifests. I know they see him/her; I have not, so far, other than very early on.


Nate, for example, has his experiences on a certain portion of the deck.  There are times when he will not pass a very innocuous looking few feet, to come towards me. He becomes completely cowed, very anxious and whines desperately, all the while looking towards something in a totally abject way.


Not even a biscuit will make him pass that spot.

Lucky will,  on some mornings when I awake, have anxiety and worry written all over him. On those mornings, Nate will look at me with deep thankfulness the dark night is through.  And after I am up and about, they will settle and sleep for the rest of the day...unusual behaviour in itself.


It is as if they guard us on some nights; I can only imagine who they see...but I can feel leftover energy on those mornings.


The Spirits' energies are benevolent for the most part, but I have sensed there may be some which are not. And these are the ones who will make me smudge later in the day.

And there is a space on this property I do not like. It is dark, dank even on the hottest day. My main impression of it is one of blackness...I barely see the tall, thin Trees which attempt to grow there. For the most part, I avoid it. Better to leave it be.



As time goes by, I hope to have more experiences, here, on this magical Land. Each one is miraculous, each one has its own special blessings.

I am, in particular, looking forward to Hallowe'en, when the veil between planes of existence is thinner than usual. Who will make their energy felt this weekend?



My beliefs are not mainstream. I am grateful for the opportunity to live a life which shows me, on an everyday basis, my practice of spirituality is right for me... and with that, I am the recipient of an inner calm and peace.


For the most part. 


Chasing bad Spirits away from our Dogs can tend to chip away at that peace, a bit!

An Early Warning

Winter's early breath had frozen all plants which had been blooming merrily, without any thought of  their forthcoming Death, when we arrived back home after our trip South.

The garden looks eerie...dead and skeletal Sunflower stalks rise out of the Soil with their leaves blackened and limp. Geraniums, once with such red, glowing flowers my eyes hurt to look at them, are now withered and brown.  It looks like a set for a movie about Hallowe'en.

I remembered to say goodbye to the late blooming plants before I left on holiday.  And when the weather forecaster warned the temperatures were -15C, here in the Cariboo, I was glad I had. I realized then there would be no more home-grown beauties I could cut for the indoors.


It was still a shock, on my return.  How quickly Mother Nature takes my efforts and destroys them! In the window boxes, dark, slimy vegetation has taken over the once sprightly blooms, making the house look abandoned and rather frightening.

It felt like a welcome home gone wrong.


It did not take long for the shock to recede...we live in the middle of the province, in the dry, cold, high interior, after all. What else could I expect?  It is the way of things, here.


There will still be a few warmish Days, before Winter blows in for good for a few months. During those Days, I will clean up the garden, also finishing the new beds I am in the process of creating. I could not pull out plants which were blooming heartily, before; now I look forward to cleaning them out.  Nature has a plan in mind, after all.


And this urge to clean, to prepare for Winter, has also moved indoors.  I am anticipating cleaning closets, which, during the Summer months, have somehow filled to bursting.


I wonder whether clothes procreate. Some of the items in the drawers are new to me, even, and I wonder when I bought them. Nevertheless, I am determined to have well-ordered drawers and closets in time for the full onslaught of Winter.


I imagine opening the sock drawer and finding just the perfect pair of warm socks immediately, instead of the wild searching I am doing at the present time.


With inclement weather arriving, it feels prudent to have the interior of our home just as sparse and spare as the outdoors.  Summer Flowers on the dining table have been replaced by a selection of Gourds and small Pumpkins, denoting the season... and the only decoration to be seen.



Candles have replaced the wildly profuse greenery which graced each table surface. Candles are important and useful; they are required during the times electrical power fails, and they lend such a cosy ambiance, when Wind rages outdoors.

Autumn is like this. Just now, a ferociously powerful South Wind is pushing back the strong North Wind.  Yet North Wind is implacable; he will be back, waiting and hovering just over the rise...
 

Even with the recent Winter warning residing in the back of my mind...I love, love, love walking with South Wind's breath full on my face. She is soft, caressing...she whispers her intent to return...


The Dogs are wildly excited, during this Morning's walk. They chase leaves, which blow about everywhere. Quickly, the ground is becoming a golden carpet. Just yesterday, I glanced out the window and was struck by the beauty of the red-brown-gold of the Saskatoon bushes on the far hill.

And so. Even with momentary disbelief upon my arrival home at the quick death of a garden, I can only think...

How perfectly and absolutely... beautiful and right...this time of year is!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, CANADA!

We're off to visit the family to celebrate Thanksgiving on the Coast.

Whether or not it is your country's day to celebrate and express your gratitude matters not.

I still wish you all a very happy, safe and warm Thanksgiving, wherever and whenever that Day occurs!