December 2008

One winter, we decided we were going to spend the winter at our cabin on Derr Island on the Clark Fork River. It was glorious. We saw animals and birds we had never seen during the summer months. The snow was up to the windowsill! One day, Pat was sitting in his rocking chair when he looked up and saw a raccoon passing by on its way to the bird feeder. They both did double-takes. Deer and elk looked in the windows often. The eagles and ospreys were always scooping up fish from the river out front. We were warm and cozy inside with the fireplace and pellet stove going full blast. It should be a good time to catch up on that reading. But no, it snowed day and night, so Pat would go out and plow the road, bridge, and driveway every day. I helped with the shoveling. It snowed and snowed. Finally, Pat came in one day and said we would have to move into town. He didn't have anywhere else to put the snow!

But I wanted to write about a Christmas at the cabin, too. Being in north Idaho, it goes without saying that we had the snow. Pat and our youngest daughter mounted the snowmobiles and sped across the center of the island to a promising stand of trees. They looked for just the right Christmas tree. Not too tall (although we had a two-story ceiling in the living area) and with every side perfect. They picked out one about 10 feet tall and pulled it home. I don't know if the trip home thinned one side of the tree, or if they had settled for less than perfect. We decorated it with strings of popcorn and cranberries and lights. It was beautiful.

Our other kids started arriving, bringing presents and sleeping bags for their little kids. There was a lot to keep the children and their parents entertained. Everything was brought out of the barn and garage. There was much laughter, and a few narrow escapes. Like the time one driver, passenger, and snowmobile went into the south fork of the river. Luckily, they decided it would be wiser to hike home and tell Dad than to wait until everyone was asleep to sneak in.

When I asked the kids what they remember about Christmas, the oldest said the time they got stuck in the snow and had to hike in. Pat told them not to worry and he would get them out the next day. By the next day the car was not visible except for the bump in the snow. Pat had to call his very best buddy to get the car pulled out with a bulldozer.

The best memory I have is of excited grandchildren coming down the stairs to this huge tree with five families' presents piled up under it and all the laughter. Let's not even think about one of the son-in-law's major snoring. Everyone had a place to sleep, but not all of us slept!

Some of the best memories are of the food. Daughter Peggy would always make quiche the night before so all we had to do was pop it into the oven Christmas morning. Of course there were oranges and tangerines from the stockings, mimosas and sticky buns. It was a grand time and I hope your holidays are just as memorable.