I’m drinking a glass of redwine going berserk in a bag of store-bought candy, not homemade. Neither.
It is the day before our yule celebration and I haven’t even unpacked our decorations. I haven’t baked a thousand cookies. I didn’t even polish the windows. I’m not feeling it. I’m not feeling yule… not in the way I used to but then again nothing is like it used to be, most of my kids won’t even be home for christmas. So what is christmas anyways?
Gift giving? Yes. I have received much and I have given much this month. Community? Yes. I have much and many as well as I have no one. I realise. Family? It is about family isn’t it?
It’s about the children.
“Yule is just my favourite feast of the whole year!” he said and I felt… obliged.
Feeling obliged is a good thing. Feeling not-obliged is the worst!
So we’ll do the whole thing tomorrow. The fire. The feast. The gift. We’ll dance around the tree of life and sacrifice to the pixie, remember the dead and celebrate the sun. I will do all of these things as we used to do them knowing that nothing is the same, everything has changed, everything always changes, I guess I just wanted so desperately for some things NOT to change. Maybe. But they do. And in the midst of all of these changes there are these thin red lines, there is eternity. Continuation.
And in a way it’s beautiful.
In the old days people would celebrate yule by drinking and feasting all through the month. They would give solemn oaths and carry light to each house in the village, yule was once a totally different thing. Yule itself has changed so much it’s only the fact that remains: some time around solstice people in this part of the world have been celebrating.
Different gods and in different ways. Yet always. Some sort of celebration.
(do you see how the sunset this evening looks like a spiral? Isn’t that strange?)
We cleaned the house and did the chores. We need to fix the cars because they’re broken (everything breaks around yule, it’s some sort of law) so we spent the majority of the day kicking and screaming at the ford. Then I went for a long walk with Sigurd and I wore my new boots that are made for walking
then we made a new workshop table for Sigurd (we got a lot of lego from a reader, nice!)
and then I sat down to write this post and realised that I didn’t really have a lot to say, it’s all very quiet and calm, the red wine is nice, the candy is gone, I’m going to make meatballs now.
Nothing fancy. It was just a day. The day before yule.
Some years ago I would have been a tornado right about now. A tornado of death and destruction, kicking and screaming at the windows or the mess or the lack of money or the inadequacy of myself but I think I’ve changed.
So there’s that.
And that was all.