Me, June, and Mr. & Mrs. Claus
For Christmas Day, I leave you with a little Christmas Story, about June, the lady I have come to know and love at the nursing home (Long Term Care) where I volunteer.
From the journal, December 19th, 2013
Christmas Party at the nursing home (Long Term Care Home).
Once again, it's party season, joyful celebrations and all that. What else to do in the creeping dark of winter. I shouldn't say it quite that way. We have snow, thick blankets of snow this year. It is wonderful and bright under the moonlight. I went skiing last night, and the night before and no light was needed. I could see perfectly well under the clear sky, and well enough under clouds--well, okay, last night (cloudy) I did rename the Big Hill, Blind Faith, as I bombed down the centre in the dark, taking each curve and dip with ease, I realized I was very much counting on the hope that no one had built a snowman, or a ramp, or dropped a rock in my path, in which case I would have smacked right into it. So skiing that hill in the dark is an act of blind faith that everything is as expected.
<—this is how the forest looks in moonlight. Another miniature. I’ll post it all properly to Etsy after Christmas.
Tonight, Randy and I went to the Christmas party at the home. It amazes me how much like family it feels when I visit. I had so much fun. June is great to be with, and even better to raid the snack tables with. We made several visits. She put our names down for the Limousine ride through the Festival of Lights in Elgin Park. It was wonderful to be thought of. Unfortunately, the ride was a disappointment, as the windows were so darkly tinted, the brilliant Christmas light displays were reduced to a baleful glow. But the leather seats were cosy. I sat between Randy and Richard. We re-joined June upon our return, cruised the food tables together, and had a great chat with Barbara A.
Barbara, June, and staff
She regaled us with the story of her shave, which goes like this: "so she asks me if I wanted a shave, and I look down at my armpits", Barbara lifts up her arms to illustrate, peers down at both arm pits, and continues the story, "you mean these?" "no", anonymous staff member says, and points at her chin. At this point, we three woman of a certain age start howling. Alas, yes, I too get the joke. This is a thing my mother never told me. So far,I find tweezers useful. Barbara went on to allude to more extensive shaves people indulge in nowadays, and I told them about the sights of Life Drawing. Poor Randy had to listen to the whole thing. If laughter is medicine, we are all in very good health tonight.
A little bolero crochet jacket for June.
June's jacket is done excepting a name tag to be sewn in (so it doesn't get lost on laundry day) and clipping the threads from the buttons. It looks fabulous, I'd wear it, but I think it will suit her well. I hope she will feel fashionable, modern and up-to-date when wearing it. And certainly, may it say very clearly how much I think of her.
Randy and June