Tag Archives: nostalgia

I remember Christmas

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 I want to indulge myself in a little Christmas nostalgia this week.
These are some of the Christmas memories that I want to share with
you. 

Whenever I think of Christmas, I think about milking cows. Any
activity on a dairy farm starts with milking cows; that includes
weddings, funerals and Christmas. The haymow of the barn was always
full of straw and hay bales which made excellent insulation for what
was basically the barn’s attic. Combine this superior insulation with
36 warm cows and the barn was a pleasant place to be when it was
cold. The milk house was attached at one side and the calves lived in
a lean-too on the east. The cows would have received fresh bedding at
noon and a pile of leftover straw remained at one end of the
barn dotted with cats awaiting a twice-daily feeding of milk
replacer. Before my dad and older brothers came in for the Christmas
big meal, all the cattle were fed and ready for a pleasant night’s
sleep. It was easy to feel that all was well on Christmas when you
grew up with a barn like the one at our farm.

The Christmas Eve meal began well before December 24th. My mom made
lefse, kolache and cookies prior to the big day. She received help
from Grandma Z (Zavoral) sometimes and from my sister Debbie. Kolache
is a Czech pastry which is filled with raisins and prune. I love
Kolache and as a child would eat them until I had to almost live in
the bathroom. Mom made so much food for Christmas Eve that the table
looked like a diorama of a small city. I sat repulsed as my dad and
Grandpa Z ate lutefisk which had been drowned in lye and resurrected
in butter. There was not one space left over at our table; I don’t
believe anyone ever ate anything-we just passed plates in one
continuous, lock-step serpentine pattern. It was easy to feel all was
well at Christmas when you celebrated at our house.

We had to wait to open presents until the dishes were washed. Then
dessert was served and coffee drank. It was torture. I had spent the
previous three weeks living under the Christmas tree. I would
estimate the size of each present then match it with items from the
catalog which I had petitioned for since the wish book arrived that
fall. I loved lying under the tree. It too was like a whole
wonderful, fantastic culture of Christmas celebration. There was a
faux, stained glass nativity scene which mom and I had painted
together. Multiple decorations made by my siblings and several sets
of lights. Some of the icicles were hung properly-one at time and
straight and then there were the icicles which had been applied by me.
Our dog, Benji and I spent many hours under that tree awaiting
Christmas. It was easy to feel all was under the Christmas tree.

Midnight Christmas Eve services were a little late in the evening for
my taste but still pretty neat. Pastor Ralph Hofrenning delivered the
message in a deep, booming voice that left little doubt as to the
reason for this gathering. I enjoyed the Christmas music because most
were old standards and I knew all the lyrics. The end of the service
started with a darkened church as one lit candle passed the flame to
the next. As the last candle received light, the service ended.
Sitting there, crammed shoulder to shoulder in a church pew, it was
easy to feel all was well.

I know things seem a little bleak this year. World economic problems
dominate the news and cloud what should be a joyous season.
Things will get better and remember that while the world may be
different, Christmas is still the same. During the holiday season,
it’s much easier to feel-all is well.

The Year in Review

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Everyone amps up their nostalgia and reminisces about the year just past this time of year. My way is typically not the way of the herd, however this year I will join in and give you my perspective. I decided to review the year also; the year I chose, however, will be 1973.

Chocolate malts, whist and “the Carol Burnett Show” were popular Saturday night activities around the Nelson household in 1973. My memories of playing cards were that I held my cards too far forward so others could them with little effort; this really took away my competitive edge. I loved Carol Burnett, especially when she turned up the house lights and answered questions from the crowd. I must have been approaching puberty at the time as I found Carol Burnett’s brand of humor not only funny but very attractive, a thought that is uncomfortable about which to write. I typically gave into a food coma early on Saturday nights, laying in front of the heat register where we dried all of our winter gloves.

Early morning television was also fantastic in 1973. I used to get up early and watch the test pattern on the television screen until “the Bugs Bunny and Road Runner Show” came on about six in the morning. I loved the inventions that the coyote ordered from the generic “ACME” company is his attempts to capture the Road Runner. Bugs Bunny was equal parts suave and manic, I do believe he and Hawkeye from “MASH” formed most of my sense of humor. I liked the television series MASH so much that I even performed it’s title song for my trombone solo in grade school. Alan Alda later made MASH into a vehicle for his own activism and absolutely dulled its former edginess. It was fantastic though, in ’73.

I was recently reminded of how important a first knife is to a young boy. My first Kabar came along in 1973. One large blade, one small blade, and a rough, bark-like handle into which both blades folded into neatly and compactly. This was the classic Kabar and I was proud of mine. I also got my first compass that year, the kind you pin onto the lapel of your jacket. I’m not sure I even needed a compass but every boy in our family got one for Christmas that year. I’m not sure if 1973 was the year of my first Daisy bb gun or not; however it was right around that time I was first introduced to this fine little lever-action. I still like guns however I learned a lesson the year I received my Daisy. I shot a Robin with it and I felt like the worst person that ever lived after which I stayed with barn swallows. I later learned that swallows eat mosquitoes so I know leave all birds alone-too bad I didn’t know that at the time. The lesson was that sometimes you can’t take it back.

So that is my year in review, probably not what you expected. 1973 was a good year and deserved a review; I’ll leave 2009 to everyone else.