Ghosts Of An Already Christmas Past
Sunday, December 29, 2013
When the family leaves late Christmas Eve
Rosemary and I pick up a bit and get into bed knowing that on Christmas day we
will not go anywhere. Even though the NY Times publishes on Christmas
day it will not be waiting for us in the morning. That day’s edition
will be wrapped with that of December 26. And so it was.
Since we do not have to go
anywhere we can stay in our bed clothes to lounge around and eat sweets
(marzipan and Belgian chocolates). Rosemary will drink lots of coffee and I
will make many large mugs of strong tea.
By December 26, the Christmas tree’s base
is empty of gifts and wrappings. By the 27th the living room is back
to normal except for the tree.
Lauren would note that the JBL monitors
(with their black front cloths) are back and that Ale took the AR-2ax speakers
to Lillooet. I will miss their presence and their accuracy and I am slowly
appreciating (I am rationalizing this!) the smoothness of the JBLs.
Today Ale loaded her van and left for
Lillooet. I hope she will enjoy the AR sound system that she is taking and that
she will share the beautiful sound in her solitude but with the company of her
beloved cat Banjo. When she was gone, I almost cried. I was left feeling empty. She
is so near and yet those curves and winter driving keep her so far.
 |
| All neat & tidy |
She left my basement in beautiful order and
I am not ashamed of going down there. The packing of the Manfrotto boom in a
corner has given me the project and excitement of taking pictures in the spring
that will resemble the skylight lighting of Mathew Brady’s portraits.
The pictures of the snow, three days before
Christmas Eve, somehow give me a feeling of warmth but coldness at the same
time. I cannot complain about our almost white Christmas. I took the pictures
and all others here with the Fuji X-E1. That I have such a wonderful camera has
all to do with the constant urging of my Rosemary and the technical backing and
practical expertise of Jeff Gin from Leo’s Camera on Granville.
The living room as it is now, in spite of some of
the warm colours, is empty of the humanity of my family. I hope we are all
around to celebrate one more Christmas Eve and that the room will again be
messy with torn wrapping and giggling granddaughters.
