Tonight is Christmas Eve. The floodlights illuminate the creek in front of me; my trees are lit and Christmas carols are playing on my Echo. Shortly I will leave to attend Christmas Eve festivities at the Red Dot, closed this evening to the public and home to the party Alana, the owner, has prepared.
Every year the Dot is decorated to the nines. This year is in honor to Wendy Frost, the artist who helped Alana every year create magic and who passed away during the summer, not long after moving to Florida.
When I was a wee boy, Christmas Eve was Christmas. It was the night we celebrated and opened presents. My Juettner cousins would come and we would all frolic in the basement or play games in the living room until it was time for the Christmas Eve feast and then we would rip into our packages.
When they had gone home, we opened our own family presents, then sleepy I would head off to bed while my older siblings and parents attended Midnight Mass.
As things do, the traditions changed and the Juettners ceased coming and things toned down a bit. My older siblings departed, my brother to medical school, my sister to the convent. The next Christmases were quiet.
After my father’s passing, it seemed Christmases picked up again after a while. My brother returned to Minneapolis, post internship, a year in Honduras giving medical care to children and a couple of years in the Air Force.
In college, it was fun to leave where I was living and return to my old bedroom, sometimes with an out of town roommate in tow.
For me, tonight is Christmas.
Christmas Day always seemed a bit anti-climactic. The big presents had been given and Christmas exhaustion had set in.
Tonight, this Christmas of 2016, I wish all of you who celebrate the holiday, the merriest of Christmases.
It is also the beginning of Hanukkah, which rarely coincides with Christmas but it does this year. So Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah!
I am off to a party, with two quiches and some gag gifts, as Alana requested.
May this day be very merry, safe and happy for all of us.


Letter From Claverack 06 11 2017 Returning to hygge…
June 12, 2017It is delightfully quiet as I sit on the deck, the fierce heat of the day receding and all the noise of the city left behind. About four o’clock, I returned to Columbia County from four days in the city, a delightful time, packed with adventures and sights and people. And I was glad to return to the quiet of the cottage and knit it all together.
The occasion of my trip was that it was my brother and sister-in-law’s wedding anniversary. They were married in New York four years ago and return every year to celebrate. Last year, I was absent, selling books in Edgartown, on Martha’s Vineyard.
This year, I was present. On Wednesday, they went for a private celebration of their anniversary while I had dinner with my wonderful godson, Paul Geffre. We had a wonderful dinner and then went to the Parker Meridien for after dinner drinks with Joe and Deb, who had not met him.
Joe, Deb and I went, over the days of the visit, to the Intrepid, Ellis Island, the site of the deadly Triangle fire, to “Spamilton,” which Deb and I enjoyed more than Joe as we got the Broadway references.
As I type, the Tonys are being broadcast and I am not watching. It seems more important to gather myself together after these hectic days, wonderful, full of visiting and fun and feasting and I’m sure my waist has expanded and I must handle that.
Today, after Joe and Deb had left for the airport, I brunched with old friends from California, one of whom has residences in both places and Meryl and Ray, who were in for a visit and work for Meryl.
Before I met them, I had a quick coffee with my bestest friend, Nick Stuart [Lionel, you are more than friend; we are family of choice], and we spoke of things and we talked about how I have been working on living in an “attitude of gratitude,” appreciating the good things in life and not yearning after what I don’t have and celebrating what I have, which is quite, quite wonderful.
Deb and Joe gave me a wonderful book about hygge and I laughed at getting it because I have been writing about hygge ever since I heard about it and, gosh, don’t we need it now.
At this moment, I am having a very hygge moment. Sitting on my deck, the creek is calm, birds are chirping. My neighbor’s dogs are romping some distance away. Far away there is a sound of a truck traversing the road a third of a mile away and I am not caught in the cacophony of New York, which is wonderful and now wearying for me.
When I was moving to DC, I lived for a time in an apartment in Georgetown, across from Dumbarton Oaks, and thought: wow, Mathew is getting to live in some of the great cities of the world. That has continued. And now, in the third act of this life, I am always glad to return to the quiet and the hygge of the cottage.
At dinners and brunches, we all discussed the political madness of our time, which is, at least to me, the most serious since Watergate, and all wonder how we got here and where will we go. The Democrats are in disarray; the Republicans fleeing or feeding the strangeness that is Trump [the kindest way I can describe this presidency].
The Clinton impeachment was a distraction, a hounding of a serial sexual player who didn’t want to admit in public what we all knew.
This is not a distraction. It is serious. This is Watergate level.
Theresa May in the UK, having lost [and it is almost impossible to believe she did] her gamble to get a greater majority to support her Brexit negotiations, was described tonight in some UK papers as “dead woman walking.”
Macron, in France, has seized the government in a way no one has since De Gaulle [I think] and we have a new day there. Angela Merkel looks to be re-elected in Germany. The political scene is exciting, if more than a bit scary.
Tags:Bill Clinton, Columbia County, Deb Tombers, Edgartown, Ellis Island, Hudson New York, Hudson River, Hygge, Intrepid, Joe Tombers, Macron, Martha's Vineyard, Meryl Marshall-Daniels, New York City, Paul Geffre, Spamilton, The Tonys, Theresa May, Triangle Fire, Trump
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