'Tis the season
...to spread peace, love, joy, and the latest variant
“We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”—M.L. King, Jr.
What began as a long-anticipated family weekend became a super-spreader extravaganza. My sister Wendy, who’d hosted 32 guests for Thanksgiving, called the next morning to say she’d tested positive. Suddenly, all our plans went POOF! and everyone dispersed.
For the first time in three years, all 20 of us had managed to convene for Thanksgiving. We’d also planned to celebrate an early Chanukah and fall birthdays, including milestones for both David and Noah. Plus, my mom was really looking forward to a family photo.
My expectations were high, which made my disappointment all the more sorely felt. Still, I was grateful I’d brought my camera to Thanksgiving:
By the time Noah’s birthday rolled around, David was really sick. I felt generally fine, so I took the boys out for a celebratory breakfast. Later in the day we all tested again. David’s was negative. Mine was unmistakably positive.
Instead of taking Noah out for his quarter-century dinner celebration, all I could do was treat him from afar. Good thing Aidan was with him, and both managed to stave off the plague.
Turns out about 50% of us got COVID, several others got RSV, but thankfully we’re all alive and breathing. Maybe next year we’ll actually get to hang out together for longer than one brief, overstuffed evening and get a family photo of all of us squeezed together on my parents’ extra-long living room couch. Here’s to hoping.
Returning to rural Vermont after being with my boisterous family was challenging, especially since I had to cancel whatever meager social plans I had and distance myself, making my sense of isolation especially pronounced. Plus, David was sicker than I was, so even though I was the one with COVID, there was no, “Can I get you anything, honey? Let me bring you some soup. How are you feeling? No, I’ll do that…you take it easy…”
When I was finally free to go out into the world (albeit masked), we went for a short hike in the town forest, where our neighbors Brenda and Shane were almost finished building a wooden pavilion for the community. “Yep, a one-armed man and an old lady built this,” Brenda joked, but it’s actually fairly true. Brenda is impressively vigorous at 73 and Shane, while exceptionally skilled, was born with just one fully-formed hand. I watched as Shane hoisted a ladder onto the roof with remarkable ease. On their last day, Brenda told us she extended a hand towards Shane for a fist bump. “Naw, this deserves a hug,” he said.
We celebrated Brenda’s impressive achievement at Carlita’s Cantina, a new restaurant in nearby South Royalton owned by Daniel Sherburne, a longtime deadhead and talented chef. After our week-plus of isolation, seeing warm, friendly humans was as nourishing as the food itself. We happened to sit next to a family who’d just moved from Berkeley too.
The following weekend was Woodstock’s annual Wassail weekend. Woodstock’s event calendar began with a page entitled, “What Is Wassail Anyway?” The word itself comes from the Anglo-Saxon phrase waes hael, meaning “good health.” But it’s also a drink made with curdled cream, roasted eggs, spices, sugars, apples and mulled ale (doesn’t sound too appetizing honestly). The celebration in Woodstock is all about merriment, celebration, and song.
We missed the parade, which features humans and horses dressed in Victorian-era splendor, but got to see an a capella performance by The Ten, which was entertaining. The group now consists of 18 multi-generational singers, many alumni of famed a capella groups, including Yale’s Whiffenpoofs, Princeton’s Nassoons, Brown’s Jabberwocks and Skidmore’s Bandersnatchers—names that sound like they came straight out of Harry Potter.
While the Shelburne Museum is closed until May, an event called Winter Lights is bringing people back to their historical grounds. The museum’s structures—from the Electra Havemeyer Webb Building to the Ticonderoga ship—are magically illuminated. The snow had just begun to fall, making the entire area look like something out of a Hallmark holiday special.
We got far more than a dusting this past week when the light, delicate flakes turned to wet, heavy snow. David returned home later that afternoon to find me sitting at the dining room table surrounded by candlelight, not because I was trying to be romantic, but because the power had gone out. The following day the internet was down too, making we wish we had a land line.
The good news? We have both a wood-burning stove and a generator. Thankfully David has become quite adept at making warming fires and also figured out how to work the generator. I’d gone food shopping in anticipation of the storm, so we wouldn’t starve or be forced to live on maple-flavored snow. Plus, the road was plowed and our driveway is short.
The bad news? We were the last house on our road still without electricity. David kept getting text messages, “Power is restored in your area,” but it wasn’t. And it wasn’t. And still wasn’t. He decided to drive along the road below our property to see if he could find any downed lines and spotted a branch hanging atop a wire. A team from Green Mountain Power arrived, brought a new cable and got to work. Finally, after three-and-a-half days, our power was restored!
Even though the days have been short, we had enough light one morning to spot an enormous owl sitting on a nearby wooden post. It flew off just as I snapped the photo, revealing its impressive wingspan. I, of course, immediately pondered its signficance and meaning, going so far as to look into the symbolism of an owl visit. I shared my excitement about this sighting with Brenda, who said, “It means you have mice.” So much for great spiritual significance.
We’re now back in California to spend the holidays with the boys and see Bay Area pals. First thing we did? Take Noah out for a belated birthday dinner.
Wishing you and your families a healthy, happy holiday season.
Thanks for reading,
Elisse
I love this so much, the writing, the photos, not the illnesses. Thanks for sharing. ❤️
Again, I feel like I'm right there with you and David. I'm so glad you are back in Cali now. Can't wait to see you.