Friday, December 27, 2013

Christmas 2013

Shall we remember this Christmas as the Christmas that the advent wreath set on fire on Christmas eve,  and I thought we would burn the house down, or that Bruce would set himself on fire as he dashed to the door with the wreath in his hands and fire streaming towards him?

Our Vermont nativity scene replaced the advent wreath
Shall we remember this Christmas as the Christmas Eve that Lizzy was up half the night with some unidentified tummy bug?
As you can see, she recovered

  Or shall we remember this Christmas as the Christmas Eve that Emily woke up with  such terrible stomach pains that we drove half way to Burlington in temperatures of -16 in the dead of night before the pains abated and we turned around, divested ourselves of all our layers, and fell back into bed?

None of the above.  We shall remember a magical Christmas Eve night with Susanmarie, Ellen, and Sofia, gingerbread houses and wonderful food, and laughter, and Dr Who.

We shall remember an utterly chaotic Christmas Pageant at Trinity (ice storms disrupted practices). 

We shall remember playing in the snow on Christmas morning, Sue in her Vermont hat,  our first attempt at a Snow Dalek, squirrels in the garden, and Lizzy's Snow Cave.


 And on Boxing Day, snow falling in soft flakes, a frozen waterfall, trees laden with snow, and sledding in the park.

We shall remember the most succulent turkey I've ever cooked (no more frozen turkeys from the supermarket for Christmas EVER - from now on, Ed will be commissioned to bring a turkey from Moore Wilson's), chestnuts and brussel sprouts, a delicious New Zealand pinot, a superlative-adjectives-fail-me creme brulee cake.

creme brulee cake is to-die-for
Our neighbour, Karen, joined us for Christmas dinner

And we shall remember that Christmas 2013 is when our darling Finn died, so unexpectedly.

It was love at first sight for these two

Blending in (while Harris chants quietly "I am not a westie, I am not a Westie...")

Family days
Finn with his Person

Finn would have preferred not to be a white dog


Anna and Finn were special friends...

Finn, the fire-worshipping dog, always went somewhat Zen in front of an open fire.

Our loved and lovely boy, escape artist extraordinaire, Rose's puppy, Harris's companion in crime . Our Finn.


  1. The happy and the sad ... utterly poignant: arohanui, tuahine

  2. Hard to imagine a more eventful Christmas, but I'm glad you had such a wonderful time, even though it was tempered by the sad news about Finn. I'm very sorry to hear that and will miss him greatly.

  3. What a store of beautiful memories of a very special Christmas. And what a loss too - of your beloved family member, Finn. With my love, Megan