We have had a busy holiday season this year. Maxim began thinking about Christmas before Thankgiving and grew more excited as the day approached. "What day is tomorrow?" She would ask me randomly several days before Christmas. "Tomorrow is Wednesday." I would say. "Oh." She would go back to her things for a few minutes then, "When do we go to Grammy's house? Is that Wednesday?" "No, not until Thursday." "Oh." I try to figure out how to wrap six sided boxes again and then, "After we sleep tomorrow, then it will be time to go to Grammy's house?" I have to think for a second, "Right," I finally say. Noah is less specific about his excitement, but he does bound about the house with a little more lift in his feet. "Wrestle with me Daddy!" he says, trying to goad me into a chase. "Get me!" We spend Wednesday night with Coralie and Ken and Nico and then Thursday packing up things and running last minute errands before heading north. By the time we get on the road, the kids are exhausted...but still excited. We drove all the way to Hampden, Maine where Auntie Amity is building her own growing family with Jeff. Auntie Nikki and Uncle Arty joined us with Nicholas and Amanda and we had a delicious dinner of Jambalaya with all the fixin's. The cousins played well together; Noah, Tom, and Nicholas hunted ghosts, Maxim and Alison played dolls. We stayed the night and were treated to a blueberry pancake breakfast the next morning before heading north to Grammy's house. The kids stayed awake most of the highway drive and then lolled off to sleep along the rolling stretch of road along Route 6. By the time we crested the hill at the top of Talmadge Road, they were fast asleep. But it was nice to finally be at Grammy's house. There were spruce trees out front, covered in colorful lights. The big windows that look out across their fields were outlined in white lights. The tree stood proud in the window. Maxim got the gift of her 2005 Christmas when Grammy handed her Kaitlyn Kate (Maxim's name for the doll), her new baby doll. Only a Grammy would know how much a four year old girl might like such a doll, and in her eminent wisdom, Grammy gave it to her at the very beginning of the visit, so she could play before Christmas. And play with her, she did, first taking stock of every item that came with it - a bottle, a carrying basket, a bib, change of clothes, spoon, fork, plate. She changed her diaper and put her to bed, woke her up and fed her lunch. For the rest of the weekend, when Maxim wasn't playing with Kaitlyn Kate, she was somewhere perfectly assembled for eating or sleeping or whatever Maxim had just been doing with her. Nor was Maxim the only indulged grandchild at the house. Noah also got a pretty great gift, a huge toy firetruck. It is a beautiful red ladder truck with a working ladder and lights and sounds. He plays with it a lot. But the very favorite gift for Noah this Christmas was the plastic axe that came with the fireman's vest. This tool, Noah has informed us, is not for fire fighting, but to fight monsters and ghosts. Noah stalked them all weekend and continues to do so back here at home. Both kids had a wonderful Christmas. They loved visiting their grandparents and their cousins and spending time with their new cousin, "Baby Erik," Noah likes to call him. "He's too small to play baseball." Noah said. Having a littler boy cousin is nice for Noah, who can finally feel like he's not always going to be the baby. They got a chance to see Jean and David's hand-built house at the edge of Pocomoonshine Lake and walk out into a fog that seemed to conceal the edges of the earth. We had a delicious Christmas dinner, played cut-throat Scrabble, and packed ourselves into the car the next day to head back to Massachusetts before the storm. We just made it, according to eyewitness reports. We were treated to a third meal at Amity's, a delectable chowdah, as we passed through Hampden on our way south. We arrived home after dark on the 26th of December. It has been a quiet few days at home since then. New Year's is mid-summer in Argentina and so a tradition of spring-cleaning has taken place. Everything is washed top to bottom and all the rooms are in order. We had a nice dinner with our friends Lisa and John and their son Griffin the night before last. The snow in the backyard has nearly melted off now. We enter the new year with warm memories from the last, a relatively clean slate, and comfort in the knowledge that our cycles continue once again. We wish peace to everyone in 2006.

The snow has hung around for days now, despite promises of warmer weather from the television news. The kids have been busy building tents in the livingroom. Maxim wants to know when we're leaving to visit Grammy and Noah lays on the couch, strumming the guitar and listening to Raffi. We have made chocolates this year to send around to family and close friends. Maxim helped mix and drop pieces into the melted chocolate. She was also an excellent taster of all spoons and forks and chocolate drippings. The week was filled with visits here and there and elsewhere. There was Micaela's sixth birthday party where we saw all of our Argentinean and Brazilian friends. We went to a play in Jamaica Plain with Juan Pedro, Gabby, and Steve and the kids hung out with Esperanza. We went to Joey's parents house and saw Lisa and Brenda and Kerry and Jason. We went to Jeff and Krista's house and met a whole bunch of new people.
We went to the Schlessinger Library holiday party and caught up with some of Marcela's colleagues... It feels like we haven't been home in days. But that isn't true. In addition to making the chocolates, we made holiday cards and printed photos. We gathered addresses from papers everywhere and started making our lists. Settling into our own home lets us finally gather together some things that have lived in boxes or in various places apart from each other for years now. We can make permanent lists, we can begin regular rituals and traditions. We feel that sense of things as we engage in our visits and put up our lights and rebuild our tree, life has come to a certain amount of rest. Things move, mind you, but they move around a fulcrum instead of chaotically or intermittantly. It is a different sort of rhythm for our family than we have felt since returning to this state almost five years ago.
The air stays at the freezing mark, but the sun takes layers from the bed of snow, now more than a week old. The ground begins to show through in places. The kids and I go shopping to find a Christmas present for Marcela. Maxim wants to get her a jewelry box. Noah wants to get her jewelry. Perfect. We stop by Carmela's on our way to downtown and they bring her a gift of chocolates. Carmela takesa care of Noah three times a week, but seh always sends him home with a small bag of snacks to share with Maxim in the car. They both want to hand her the gift and walk up the driveway holding it together, which Carmela melts to see. "They're adorable," she exclaims. "Merry Christmas Carmela," they say I unison, holding up the gift. "It's chocolate," Noah says. "I helped Daddy make it," Maxim tells her.
The solar year ended Wednesday with a very short day. The calendar year still has a week in it. The kids only know that these are festive days. They get to see friends and family more than usual, and eat sweets and goodies all through the day. They see their cousins and grandparents and everywhere they go people seem to give them things. What could be better for a child? We leave for Maine Thursday some time. Catherine will care for Bones and watch our house while we're gone. Another year done.

Did I mention it snowed yesterday? It started before we awoke, before the sun even came up, and it persisted through the morning in a steady dusty fall, inch upon inch. We got in the car as we do every Friday morning to drive Marcela to the train station. The snow continued to fall. We made our way out of our neighborhood and onto Main Street. The snow was really coming down. The plows hadn't been out yet and it was already 8:30 in the morning. As we inched toward the train station we decided it wasn't going to stop snowing any time soon and that it was probably too dangerous to be out driving. We turned around for home, stopping by the supermarket on the way. We also stopped at the five and dime to replace Maxim's tiara, which had broken on Thursday. We drove home very slowy. We were supposed to get a major snow earlier in the week. Every news station warned about it, some schools in Massachusetts even closed in anticipation of it. Then it didn't come. The snow and weather skirted south of us. In response, none of the local news stations made too very much of a big deal about yesterday's incoming snow, even though it packed an even bigger punch. No one seemed prepared. Just after lunch, I tried to get the kids outside, but Noah would have none of it. So I took Maxim and Catherine only. I cleaned snow from around our doors and along the side of our house and our car while Maxim and Catherine cleared large areas of snow from Catherine's back yard and tried to build a snow fort. We worked and played outside for about an hour, maybe more, and then the snow really started getting strong, blinding us. "Who wants to go inside for hot cocoa?" I asked. Both girls accepted the offer and came inside. When we entered the house, the front and back stairs and the entire car and space around the parking area were clear of snow. Outside it became a white out. You could barely see the house behind ours through the snow. "That's quite a storm," I kept saying, as if no one else noticed. "It's really coming down out there. Would you look at all that snow?" "It's a lot." Marcela would affirm. "Can I go back outside and play?" Maxim would ask. "Please? Please, Daddy, please?" The snow kept coming down, layer after layer in rapid succession. "Look at all that snow. It's like the Pleistocene never ended...well, of course, it hasn't...but I mean, it's like the glaciers are on their way back." "What are you talking about Daddy?" "There's a lot of snow, sweetie." "Can I have a bowl of snow with maple syrup, Daddy?" I get her one and then we build a big tent in the livingroom where I ask her to lay down. "I don't want to sleep, Daddy." "I know, sweetie. You don't have to. Just lie down a little." Within ten minutes she is asleep. They are good kids, Maxim and Noah. I guess, though, that is what all parents think about their children. They are all good kids. How can you not love them? We look at our children and feel this love without even trying. I see their every move as somehow beautiful. In an earlier time I might have sneered at such sentiments, at such sentimentality. But now, there it is. There are Noah and Maxim, my children. Young lives who depend upon me, who feed on my presence and mimic my actions, whose introduction to life and the world is mediated by my choices right now. It is an enormous responsibility, one that I reflect upon every day. When the snow ended, as it finally did at 4:00 p.m., the western sky opened just before el sol dipped behind the trees. Outside, the street and the walkway and everything else I had shoveled clear earlier was covered in six or more inches of snow. There was work to be done, but we were treated to a stunning sunset and the quieter calm of cold, high-pressure air. How much snow? Look at the cedar bush in the upper right hand corner of the three backyard photographs above.

The winter season is upon us. The snow in this picture hadn't melted before the storm swept in this morning. An inch an hour is falling today. Light fluffy flakes, chilled air. Yesterday we put the rest of the back yard toys back into the sandbox and moved the rest of the things inside - except for the sled. Now that December and the snow is upon us, we have begun to do more things inside. This past week has been one busy with preparation for The Day of the Virgin, the tradition tree-decorating day in Argentina (December 8). On Tuesday, Marcela, Maxim, and Noah, with help from Catherine, made snowflake ornaments out of popsicle sticks, pressed foam board, and sparkles for our Christmas tree. Marcela tied strings to each and every one. The next day we began assembling the tree. We have modified the traditional Christmas tree for our house. We like to build things with our hands and with random stuff. Last year we built a tree out of dowels. It was the fourth year in a row that we had made a craft tree for Christmas, but last year's tree was built to last. It is a holiday decoration and a minimalist sculpture. Dowels of increasing diameter are inserted through perpendicular holes along the length of a closet sized dowel cut at about five feet long. The holes are offset about ten degrees clockwise from each set of similar sized 'branches.' A green string is tied top to bottom around the ends of these 'branches,' giving the outline form of the tree (ours is a spruce as well). When I first assembled it Noah said, "No, that's not a tree. I want a...I want a plant one." Maxim remembers this one from last year and enjoys the fun of assembly; she couldn't wait to hang the globe ornaments on the ends. "This is going to be the best Christmas ever," she reiterated as the tree went up. "Can we hang the other ormament?" she asks. "I want to put a star on." Wednesday and Thursday they decorated and Marcela made a star for the top. Thursday night it was ready to go; the lights had been put on, the star, and all the ornaments were on as well. We even had our first two holiday cards to hang on the crossing strings. Maxim thinks we should add tinsel to the 'branches' as well and we are considering it. Right on cue, the snow started coming down over night. And now a blanket of fresh powder layers everything outside. Photos of that later. Our warm house echoes with childrens' laughter and and warm spirits.

Almost without warning, winter is upon us. We knew it was coming, Maxim has been anticipating it for weeks now, but now it is here. It is right on schedule with the new month. We decided, at Noah and Maxim's insitence, that we ought to put lights on our house. It takes more than you would figure - more than I did figure. After two trips to the hardware store, we had the unbiquitous icicle lights around the bay window and an outline of lights on the front door. "The upstairs windows look too dark." Marcela said. Two more boxes of lights and now the top has illumination, but I haven't photographed it. It's a slipperly slope; on the way home from the train Friday I wanted to buy two more strings of lights to outline the windows on the bottom. Marcela had better sense and insisted we just go home. "This is going to be the best Christmas ever," Maxim said when I told her I was going to put up the lights. She has no idea how funny that sounds coming from a four year old who only vaguely remembers last Christmas. I stood or laid out on the bay window roof to attach the lights, and Maxim stood inside the bedroom window, asking her run of questions. "Are you scared, Daddy? Do you feel like you could fall? I would be scared. Can I come out?" "No. Stay in side." "I don't think I would be scared. Are you hanging the lights, Daddy? How are you going to light them? This is going to be the best Christmas ever." The weather has certainly cooperated so far. Today, as Maxim awoke remembering she would be going to the Nutcracker in Boston, she looked out the window. "Daddy! Snow!" "Look Daddy, snow!" Noah mimicked. "It's really covering." All day long it fell. Not heavy enough to cover the still-warm asphalt roads, but certainly in volumes to cover grass and trees and soil. Maxim, Marcela, Gordon, Marie, and Gwen left for Boston just before noon. Noah and I stayed around the house, ate some lunch, wrestled, took a bath, and now he's down to sleep. He's grown in leaps and bounds these past few months. He speaks with clarity and in complete sentences. Last night at Esperanza's birthday party, he walked into the room where Esperanza's aunts and grandparents were chattering loudly and said, "Hey, be quiet! We're trying to watch a movie." This morning when I was walking around with the digital camera he said, "take my picture, Daddy," and posed with this piece of blue plastic that he found in Esperanza's toy box yesterday. "Thank you," he said when I showed him the picture. The other day when I was sitting at the piano he came into the living room and said, "I want to play, Daddy. Let me play." I gladly put him on the stool and he gently plunked the keys, one or two at a time, making a suprisingly nice sound. We, of course, praised him. He jumped down from the stool, "I'm done. Your turn, Daddy," and left the room. The big excitment this weekend, however, was Maxim's and Gwen's first dance recital. They dressed in black leotards and red and green skirts, they put on make up and danced in front of a full middle school auditorium. Each of them had a number with their class and then they got to be together during the finale - "Jingle Bells." After the show we went out for a late dinner and the girls danced some more in the middle of the restaurant to the great amusement of the Friday night customers. There are busy weeks ahead of us as the final days of 2005 wind down. Two weeks and three days until the winter solstice and longer days begin to set in. Four weeks until the first day of 2006 is upon us. Maxim, of course, can't wait until Christmas. Which, for her, will be the best ever.