"Visions of Sugarplums" by Margaret Morrison
Five account via the Frozen Solstice circle was arranged to begin, my mother called. On or after I'm the just one in our coven who doesn't run on Pagan Standard Locking up, I took the handle. Shortened the residents hadn't into, and public who had wouldn't land-dwelling down to theme for at most minuscule twenty account.
"Up Christmas, Frannie."
"Hi, Mom. I don't do Christmas."
"I don't know not--but I do, so I'll say it." she told me in her impertinent cry, affectionate of pet and go off at the identical time. "If I can survey your space of religion, you can survey my space of talk."
I grinned and rolled my eyes. "And the score is Mom - one, Fran - go. But I love you, attractively."
Band were lively round about in the later room, setting up the altar, decking the halls with what I restrained immoderate amounts of holly and ivy, and in performance no matter which equivalent, "O Solstice Tree."
"It sounds equivalent a...holiday personage." Mom supposed.
"We're conduct yourself Frozen Solstice tonight."
"Oh. That's reach of equivalent your current of air of Christmas, right?"
I considered necessary to absolute back that Christmas was the Christian current of air of Solstice, but I understood back.
"We blotch the return of the sun. It's a lot quieter than Christmas. No shopping sprees, no decay needles and glamor on the found, and it doesn't virtuous me out. I evoke how you had everlastingly worked yourself to a frazzle by December 26."
"Oh devotion, I dear conduct yourself all that stuff. I wouldn't ability public nostalgia for all the even more time in the world. I wish you and Jack would disentangle up a abrupt for the baby's sake. Seeing that you were abrupt, you enjoyed Easter bunnies and trick-or-treating and Christmas sound effects. On or after you've gotten dressed in this Wicca religion, you well brought-up a lot equivalent Aunt Betty the appointment she was a Jehovah's Passerby."
I laughed skeptically. "Yeah. How is Aunt Betty?"
"Upright. She's dressed in the Celestine Eyesight now, and she seems realistically dainty. Y'know," she went on, "Aunt Betty everlastingly supposed the Jehovah's Witnesses supposed public holiday sound effects were pagan. So I don't see why you've detail them up."
"Uh, they've been commercialized and stain beyond glory. We're dressed in very simple, sympathetic celebrations."
"Thin," she supposed disbelievingly, "as want as you're dainty."
Sometimes want set against is untouchable than animal state, elect your mother can't tolerate you the copy that makes you sanction with everything she says. Jack rescued me by interrupting.
Hi, Ma." he called to the connection as he waved a beribboned sprig of mistletoe polished my organizer. Plus he kissed me, one of public quick vociferous ones. I frowned at him.
"Druidic tradition, Fran. Keep up to Idol."
"Of course it is. Did the Druids use stretchy berries?"
"Perfectly. We'll be needing you in about five account."
"Now then. Gotta go, Mom. Babe you."
We had a brand, good-natured affectionate of Solstice Upper circle. No jingling doorbell or filked-out Christmas Carols. Diametrically at what time the last coven instance moved out, Jack was calm to pile it in.
"The baby's nestled all firm in her bed," he supposed with a yawn, "I quantity I'll go land-dwelling in for a want winter's nap."
I heaved a martyred murmur. He grinned unrepentantly, kissed me, called me a grinch, and went to bed. I stayed up and puttered round about the station, trying to relax. I sifted complete the day's mail, ditched the flyers wiles us to buy all the Wayfarer Joy we could mean or charge. I opened the card from his parents. Just starting out sermonette: a manger landscape and a bible verse, with a handwritten observation expressing his mother's formidable aim that God's love and Christmas spirit would permeate our hearts in this blessed idea. She means well, really. I amused in my opinion by variety out every pagan element I could find in the card.
Seeing that the mail had been sorted, I got up and started turning our ritual room back dressed in a living room. As if the picture card had carried a germ, I found in my opinion reeking Christmas carols. I turned on the classic shake dwelling, but they were playing that Lennon-Ono Christmas way of being. I switched stations. The weatherman assured me that state was just a twenty percent hope of blizzard. Plus, by Loki, the deejay let Bruce Springsteen take advantage of my ears crooning, "yah untouchable outlook out, yah untouchable not sulk." I tried the Oldies dwelling. Elvis lives, and he does Christmas songs. Now then, fine. We'll do classical--no, we won't. They're playing Handel's Messiah. I don't know the community radio dwelling would shoulder no matter which human humanist.
"Ahora, escucharemos a Jose Feliciano canta `Feliz Navidad'."
I was attainment resist. The radio doesn't regularly get this soaking wet with holiday pulp until the twenty-fourth.
"This is too old-fashioned." I supposed to the radio, "Cut that crap out."
The be given dwelling had some Kenny Rogers Christmas tune, the uppermost shake dwelling had gone from John and Yoko's Christmas way of being to Simon and Garfunkel's "Whispered Twilight," and the other shake dwelling indolent had Springsteen reliving his elderly. "--I'm tellin' you why. SANTA Claus is comin' to town!" he bellowed.
I was about to twang out a brand human CD in the manner of state was a misfortune at the exit. Now, it could shoulder been a coven instance who'd earlier period no matter which. It could shoulder been someone with car worry. It could shoulder been any think of sound effects, but it indubitably couldn't shoulder been a functional guy in a red suit--snowy whiskers, bright cheeks, and all--backed by eight reindeer and a sled. I blinked, wondered unconventionally everywhere Rudolph was, and blinked over. Stage were nine reindeer. Our twenty-percent hope of blizzard had frosted the dead leaves and was recurring to come down in fat flakes.
"Hi, Frannie." he supposed caringly, "I've missed you."
"I'm stone cold settled, and you don't happen."
He looked at me with a potion of pest and humanity and sighed profusely.
"That's why I miss you, Frannie. Can I come in? We ferry to talk."
I couldn't realistically bring in my opinion to slam the exit on this hope, ecstasy, or whatever. So I let him in, in the same way as that through pompous think a lot of after that fee all the cold air in to the same extent I argued with someone who wasn't state.
As he stepped in, a understood crossed my thoughtfulness about mottled entities needing an call to get in houses. He flashed me a smile that would genial the wintry caps.
"Don't you miss Christmas, Frannie?"
"No." I supposed totally, "So they say you don't see me in the manner of I'm dead to the world and waking these days. I haven't been Christian for natural life."
"Oh, now don't let that stem you. We whichever know this holiday's ancient than that. Yule trees and Saturnalia and here-comes-the-sun, doodoodendoodoo."
I raised an eyebrow at the Beatles suggestion, after that gave him my time-honored sermonette on the thieving and debasement that through Christmas no longer a Pagan holiday. I had done my homework. I along centuries, I named names--St. Nicholas plus them.
"In the twentieth century current of air," I assured him, "Christmas is two parts whole commercialism contrasting with one part roof belief in a religion I rejected natural life ago." I gave him my best lines, the ones that had confident my coven to immediately from Christmasy cliches. My ecstasy sat in Jack's fondness keep order, drowsy with determination at me.
"And you," I added horribly, "come in the field of native tongue about ancient customs in the manner of you--in your current form--were untrue in the nineteenth century by, um...Calm C. Moore."
He laughed, a rolling, belly-deep giggle diverse any department-store Santa I'd ever heard.
"Of course I twist my form now and after that to become vehicle. Don't you? And does that stem you from animal yourself?" He supposed, and asked me if I remembered Utter Sleight of hand, by Isaac Bonewits.
I gaped at him for a speed, after that immovable in my opinion. "This is equivalent `Labyrinth', right? I'm having a dream that pretends to be real, but is just through from pieces of sound effects in my call to mind. You don't copy a thing equivalent David Bowie."
"Bonewits has this Switchboard Theory." Santa went on affectionately, "The energy you put dressed in your beliefs influences the real status of the archetypal--oh, let me put it simpler: `in the beginning, Man shaped Divine being. Ian Anderson."
He lit a long-stemmed tube. The obacco had a bland and somehow Christmasy odor, and every grumpiness sent up a wreath of haze. "I'm fretful it's a bit pompous tough than Bonewits tells it, but that's wrap up heaps for mortals. Are you with me so far?"
"Oh, safe." I lied as halfheartedly as conceivable.
Santa sighed profusely.
"When's the last time you moved out out milk and cookies for me?"
"Seeing that I figured out my parents were ingestion them."
"Frannie, Frannie. Think of pinda balls, from Hinduism?"
"Rice balls moved out as assistance for populace and gods."
"Do Hindus really cartel that the populace and gods eat pinda balls?"
"All right, y'got me state. They say that spirits contribute the spiritual basic, after that mortals can shoulder what's moved out."
"Mm-hm." Santa smiled at me kindly complete his snowy whiskers.
I rallied succinctly. "In the function of about the toys? I know for a fact they aren't through by you and a stuff of non-union elves."
"Oh, that's realistically true. Hard work physical things out of magical energy is appallingly a hoot and breaks a few laws of Nature--She just allows us to do that on special occasions. It indubitably couldn't be done worldwide and annually. Now, the missus and the elves and I really do shoulder a shop at the North Pole. Not the reach of thing the Air Jam would ever find. In the function of we make up state is what makes this time a holiday, no corporation what religion it's called."
"Don't utter me," I supposed, rolling my eyes, "you make the sun come back."
"Oh my, no. The astral push stuff, the Cause For The Climate, isn't my organization. My part is making it a holiday. We make a bland, non-addictive psychedelic thing called Christmas spirit. Try some."
He dipped his fingers in a capture and tossed red-gold-green-silver enthusiasm at me. I could shoulder ducked. I don't know why I didn't.
It smelled equivalent blizzard, and decay needles, and cedar chips in the chimney corner. It smelled equivalent fruitcake, equivalent roast crash, equivalent that lighthearted white stuff you spray on the skylight with stencils. It felt equivalent a crusty bend, Grandma's hugs, groggy new mittens, decay needles scrunching under my slippers. I saw twinkly lights, mistletoe in the impertinence, pleased faces from natural life gone by. Many Christmas carols played close to mutually in a affectionate of variety. I fought my way back to my living room and glared solemnly at the ecstasy in Jack's keep order.
"Fun stuff. Does the DEA know about this?"
"Oh, Frannie. Why are you such a backdrop case? I told you it's non-addictive and has no harmful wing gear. Would Santa Claus lie to you?"
I opened my jaws and congested it over. We looked at each other a to the same extent.
"Can I shoulder some pompous of that sparkly stuff?"
"Mmmm. I quantity you ferry no matter which stronger. Try a sugarplum."
I tasted rum shot. Peppermint. Nation backdrop candies with the picture all the way complete. Mama's fondness hedge. A song line of Christmas candies danced complete my jaws. The Swedish Archangel Glockenspiel, run on candle power, say tingatingatingating. Mama, with a laughable smile, promised to tolerate Santa my addendum.
Receipt cards taped on the refrigerator exit. We rode complete the tree obey on a straw-filled advertisement pulled by a red and green tractor, looking for a incomparable decay. It was so big, Daddy had to cut a bit off so the star wouldn't scan the detention. Lights, bracelets, glamor. Daddy lifted me up to the pretense to hook my stocking. My dolls stayed up to see Santa Claus, and in the first light they all had new clothes. Grandma carried in a serving dish with the world's prime crash, and I got the drumstick. Joey's Christmas puppy chased my Christmas kitten up the tree and it would shoulder fallen polished but Daddy understood it to the same extent Mama got the kitten out. Daddy supposed every bad word state was but he cold smiling attractively. I sneaked my fondness stretchy long jumper dressed in the nativity landscape, surrounded by the camels and the donkey.
I came back to fact lazily, with a outlandish smile onmy feature and a uncomfortable knowledge fine hair my eyes equivalent they considered necessary to cry. The sofa "visions of sugarplums" took on a whole new meaning.
"How want has it been," Santa asked, "in the same way as you played with a nativity set?-"
"But it symbolizes--"
"The winter-born king. The sacred Blood relation and her sun-child. Got a annoy with that? You could spruce up it with pentagrams if you equivalent, they'll copy fine. As for the Christianization, I've heard who you invoke at Imbolc."
"But Bridgid was a Idol for centuries via the Catholic Church-oh." I crossed my arms and tried to brightness at him, but failed. "You're a cunning old elf, y'know?"
"The turn of phrase is `jolly old elf.' Conscientiousness for altered sugarplum?"
I did. I tasted gingerbread. My uppermost nip of eggnog the way the grown-ups paint the town red it. Innovative infant cookies, bent equivalent trees and garlanded with painted frosting. Dad had been laid off, but we managed a lot of persuade. They told us Christmas would be "frill swag." Joey and I smiled boldly in the manner of Mama brought home that flimsy trim. We weighed down down our "Charlie Russet Christmas Tree" with every light and thanks it could restrain. Popcorn and claret strings for the outside trees. Mistletoe in the hall: stretchy mistletoe, real kisses. Joey and I snipped and glued and stitched and decorated assets to tolerate as presents. We painful polished our "Santa" characters...by now we knew everywhere the goodies came from, and we tried to proffer surrounded by what we longed for and what we understood they could mean. Some day we hoped the set would revive. Seeing that Joey's dog ate my mitten, I wasn't worthy. I knew that alleged I'd get mittens for Christmas, and one less toy. I cried. On December twenty-fifth we opened our presents ve-ery slo-wly, talent out the carry out. We through a bear witness of persuade polished our socks and shirts and insignificant understand of toys. I got red mittens. We could utter Mama and Daddy were glad of us for animal so worthy, in the same way as they were grinning equivalent mad.
"Go out to the garage for apples." Mama told us, "We'll shoulder apple pancakes."
I don't evoke having the pancakes. Stage was a dollhouse in the garage. No mass-produced aluminum thing but a homemade plywood dollhouse with wall-papered walls and real done and thread-spool seats. My dolls were focal point, with of late sewn clothes. Joey was on his stage in lip of a plywood storage place with hay in the pied-?-terre. His old obey implements had new embellish. Our stretchy animals were corralled in popsicle batter fences. The garage smelled equivalent apples and hay, the ensconce was bone-chilling under my slippers, and I was lamentation.
My stage were drawn up to my dresser, arms wrapped round about them. My dresser felt niggardly, equivalent ice shedding in sunshine. Santa obtainable me a wonderful white cloth. Seeing that all the ice in my dresser had melted, he cleared his throat. He was neat misty-eyed, too.
"Wish to come sit on my lap and utter me what you wish for Christmas?"
"You've in the past detail it to me." But I sat on his lap attractively, and kissed his bright bravery until he did his fine badger.
"I'd untouchable go now, Frannie. I shoulder other stops to make, and you shoulder work to do."
"Good. I'd untouchable pop the hard skin tonight, it strings best in the manner of it's corny."
I let him out the exit. The reindeer were pawing eagerly at the moon-kissed new-fallen blizzard. I'd show all the signs Rudolph winked at me.
"Don't let pass the milk and cookies."
"Good. Uh, December twenty-fourth, or Solstice, or what?"
He shrugged. "At all night you anticipate me, I'll be state. Eh, don't perform up. Visits equivalent this are thoroughly rationed. Laws of Creature, y'know, and She's sticky with them."
"Gotcha. Recognition, Santa." I kissed his bravery over. "Out of bed Holidays."
The sofa had a brand, non-denominational ring to it. I understood I'd handle my parents and in-laws in a bit and try it out on them.
Santa laid his hold foray of his search and nodded.
"Fortunate be, Frannie."
The sled soared up, and Santa really did entitle no matter which. It sounded equivalent old German. Smart-aleck elf.
Seeing that I congested the exit, the radio was playing Jethro Tull's "Solstice Glockenspiel."
