So This Is Xmas

Christmas wasn't supposed to be this small.

I was going to have a real tree. I went looking the day after Thanksgiving. I found several possibilities. But, of course, it was too early to put up a live tree.

I put up the ceramic tree. My daughter loves it. I wrapped presents. My little daughter hasn't yet figured out what it means, but the older of the boys is going nuts trying to figure out what is in the boxes. My husband and I went shopping alone. That solved lots of problems.

We have more hooks than stockings. I filled in the blank spots with glass ornaments. For some reason, I have 2 clusters of grapes. I don't know where they came from. The grapes have me thinking about the vineyard.

My father grew muskadines. I remember him setting up the vineyard. Slowly he got more and more vines. He pruned them every year. He kept the grass cut between the rows. And every summer, people came in droves to pick fruit.

Now the vines are so overgrown the stretch across the rows and there is no physical way to cut the grass properly. I can sort of make one pass with the riding mower, but the blades get choked by the chest high grass and bramble. Some of the vines have fallen over and pulled the supports and posts with them.

I want to make wine.

That is laughable, given the sorry state of the vineyard. Nobody's fault but mine. I didn't prune every year.

I often wonder if Dad would be upset that I didn't take care of things. Sometimes I think he wanted me to learn patience. Sometimes I think he didn't expect me to share his love of horticulture. Mostly, I remember that he had this project for nearly my entire life and it is a shame to let so much work go to waste.

But mostly I want more wine, and what I make is a thousand times better than any I can buy.