[dropcap]T[/dropcap]hat norther that blew in here Saturday night was a real eye-opener for us Texans. Just the other day, I was wearing shorts, sitting in the shade of a near-naked elm tree and drinking a cold beer. The local TV weather folks had been forecasting an arctic front, somethin’ tagged as a “Polar Vortex,” for the past week, but when was the last time those guys hit the nail on the head? I trust meteorologists about as much as toothless dental hygienists, but dang if they weren’t right this time.
Yep, it got cold here right quick. How cold? Cold enough to turn my mucus-filled sinus cavity into an ice maker. Cold enough to turn my stud bull into a steer overnight. Cold enough to make me use the indoor facilities at night instead of watering the ryegrass while stargazing. It was so cold Sunday afternoon that my tongue stuck to a can of beer while sitting out on the deck.
One nice thing that Old Man Winter brought me this weekend was the Christmas spirit. It’s kinda tough to be jolly when you are Christmas shopping in a hot, stuffy store with thousands of sweaty, stanky folks who will run their shopping carts smack-dab over some old guy standing in the aisle, wondering where the heck his wife is. But now, with all my shopping done, the Christmas tree up and our house ablaze with exterior illumination, I can sit out on the Crow’s Nest, wrapped up in winter clothes I had forgotten about, sipping cold beer through a straw (I learned my lesson), and reflect on the joy of Christmas.
It doesn’t take long for my wandering mind to shuffle down Memory Lane and travel to Christmas Past. As much fun as Christmas is these days with two wonderful grandchildren, I can’t help but smile when I remember when I was their age. I may not be able to remember much about what I did yesterday, or where I left my phone, or why there is a dead patch of ryegrass in the backyard, but my memory of childhood Christmases are crystal clear.
I remember being a small child, standing in the hallway of our south Texas home alongside my brother and sister on Christmas morning, anxiously waiting for our parents to turn on the tree lights and giving us the go-ahead to enter the living room to see what Santa brought us. I can remember my brother and me getting a toy rifle like the one the Rifleman had on TV. It shot plastic bullets that we used to shoot the hat off a stuffed Quick-Draw McGraw.
I recollect standing in my grandparents’ living room, surrounded by numerous relatives and wonderful smells emanating from their country kitchen. We kids would search for our wrapped presents under a small cedar tree that my granddad chopped down somewhere in these woods behind my current home.
I have vivid memories of my other grandmother’s aluminum Christmas tree that would change colors from a revolving spotlight set among beautifully wrapped presents. She would lead all the grandkids in Christmas carols, including The Twelve Days of Christmas and Little Drummer Boy. I can still taste her coconut cake and beef enchiladas, her Christmas specialties.
I remember playing football with my cousins, each of us wearing a new Dallas Cowboys jersey. I believe mine had #32 on it since Walt Garrison was my hero. I also recall some of my favorite gifts from Santa over the years: A cool Man From Uncle radio that transformed into a gun; my first GI Joe, which I had to swap for my sister’s after I threw up on hers during the car ride to our grandparents’ home later that day. Hot Wheels and an electric football set. Great stuff!
Ah, yes, I love Christmas! Always have and always will. Lots of fond memories and many more to create. As I sit out here on my deck, wondering if I will ever regain feeling in my toes, I have great warmth in my chest. It could be from my arthritis elixir, but I actually believe it’s the Christmas spirit. So, on this chilly afternoon , let me share my spirit but not my elixir to all y’all out there. Merry Christmas from the Crow’s Nest.
Whether he shares his spirit or his elixir, you can always know that Clint Younts is sitting out on his back deck – this time watching frosty deer.
