December 21, 2002
Making Christmas cookies, just you and me, all day rolling, cutting, baking; listening to piano renditions of Christmas Carols, soft and haunting versions of slow, sad favorites, “O Holy Night,” “A Child is Born.” Frosting of blue, red, yellow, green, purple, and light icy blue highlights. Toothpicks for painting snowman’s eyes and smiles, lights on crispy Christmas trees. Stars and bells, candles and Santa faces. Later listening to Joni Mitchell’s “River,” feeling just a tinge of familiar melancholy. Traveling the dark side streets all alone, late at night after driving you back home, I savor these yearly rituals of ours.