Foxwood Tales by Cynthia and Brian Patterson
It was the Saturday before Sunday, and we were already afraid of Monday, because Christmas Eve was on Tuesday, and we thought we had to work that day, but we are retired and no longer work.
Today, instead of cleaning or getting the house ready for Christmas, I stared outside, waiting for the solar lights to come on at dusk. The 'seed' lights are woven through an artificial garland of pine and woodland greens, with real pine cones, arching over the Madonna relief, mounted on the trellis. It is the only light in the garden, until Sunday night, when the Christmas lanterns are lighted.
Inside, the Christmas tree is up, lighted and decorated of course, and Christmas candles in every window, although I need to tidy up, dust and clean, but I keep putting it off.
Oh look! The solar lights came on! Maybe I'll continue to stare at them for the rest of the evening. It is so Christmassy! The rabbits come out to look and marvel, along with all the other critters in the yard, while they weave the ivy strands into wreaths and garlands for their little cottages. Since I enjoy watching the rabbits play in the garden, I've been putting off spraying repellent upon the hedge - which keeps the rabbits from devouring the bark. They've trampled the snow, so it looks as if a series of guests had been wandering all over the yard and garden. I prefer the snow to be undisturbed, but rabbits do as they please.
Perhaps the rabbits are trying to convey a message? Maybe the messy snow is a reflection of the interior of my house? I suppose I really do need to clean.
Which reminds me of a story I can't remember. When I was little there was a children's book about a mouse who didn't keep house. The home kept getting dirtier and dirtier until it blew up. That's all I can recall, but I wonder if it blew up when she tried to light the oven? I know.
I have to clean my oven too.
Tomorrow is another day.