322/365 Settling into the season

So I got my little Thomas Merton Advent book out, and a new one I picked last year but haven't read, called From Holidays to Holy Days by Albert Holtz, OSB. I'm excited about this one--the blurb on the back says it is based upon his walks through Newark, NJ. A city dweller, not out on the windswept plains of western Missouri. Today's reflection is about Christmas wreaths, which I will read later when the coffee wears off and I'm a little less, well, frenetic. But reading the title reminded me of last night.

I took Sophia to her play practice and had let Mike know that I was then going to leave for a moment to be alone. I could go get the tires rotated for all I cared, I just needed to be away for a few moments.  I dropped off the late library books (always late) and then drove out to the fabric store I frequent when I can't make it to Hancock's of Paducah (which means usually). I needed a Christmas fabric to back one of the quilts I've made; I needed to get some tapers for the advent wreath (I was going to just use white this year and put ribbons at the base--I made it this morning and it makes me happy). I wandered around the bolts of fabric and didn't think about anything except weight, hand, drape--fabric things. Successful, I then drove home and parked the car. Janet up the street was starting a business selling catalog jewelry and I figured I might be able to find a birthday present for my niece. So I walked in the BITTER COLD WIND up a block and a half.

It was warm and cozy in her house. She had a nice crowd. Astrid was there and we talked about things, all sorts of things, for a moment (I can see Astrid on Monday and then see her again on Tuesday and still have plenty to talk about). I found a few things that I thought I could fit into the Christmas-Birthday lists. Then Janet handed me the Christmas wreath I'd bought from her boy scout troop. I've done this every year, and I hang it in my kitchen to make the place smell like Christmas.

She was worried about my walking home--there's been a bit of a crime spree--but my theory was it was too cold for crime that night and I'd be fine. It is all downhill from her house to mine, anyway, and I walk fast.

I had on my German army coat (bundesrepublik, not something sinister) which I believe will cut any weather. One arm had my purse, which is huge and overfull. The other one, I carried the wreath over my forearm. I walked down and felt the bits of snow flurries hit my nose and eyelashes, just like Julie Andrews' favorite things. Under the streetlight at Arkansas, I looked up to catch the glimpse of the snow.

I crossed on the diagonal to my side of the street, my block, and looked up at the giant sycamore on our corner. I thought about how beautiful it all was, how lovely the city was when you saw it in this light, how humble and graceful my place in the world was.

Suddenly it was Advent and I was back where I belonged.