I considered titling this post "Christmas drive," but the word "confession" in any blog post title seems a bit more titilating. I thought after the forty seven previous Christmas posts, I might need something a little catchier than "Christmas drive."
Bless you if my blog hasn't completely lost your attention. (But I will tell you what. I LOVE going back to look at the Christmases I documented on my blog. Let's not forget that this is for me!)
On the bright side, I do believe this is my last Christmas post.
Okay, so here is the confession...
I love Larry Meiller.
(It's okay, Greg knows.)
Actually, what I love is the Larry Meiller show.
When we first moved to Madison, I was devastated to find that there was very little national programming on the public radio stations. How could there be so little national programming with TWO public radio stations? Sure, there was "Morning Edition" and "All Things Considered," but in between my choices are classical music (a polite no thanks) and local programming. LOCAL PROGRAMMING. Ugh. Who cares about local programming?! I want NATIONAL programming.
Of course, at home I can stream whatever I want over the Internet. But the problem is the CAR. I tried listening to music again. I tried having conversations with my children. I tried quiet meditation. But nothing was very satisfying. So I broke down and started listening to "The Ideas Network"--Wisconsin's 24-7 local talk public radio station--and feel free to laugh at the name, I do.
Fortunately, I tend NOT to be in the car when they discuss such lovely topics as why women are biologically programmed to become lesbians after age 35 (??!!!!)----->Do you see why I was in such despair???
But I DO tend to be in the car a lot during the Larry Meiller show. At first, I HATED it. But, like any true public radio addict, I could not turn it off. And, sure enough, I gradually began to like it. It helped that Larry Meiller sounds EXACTLY like Fred Willard. And, even more so, I began to accumulate bits of helpful information, much of it about Wisconsin.
For instance, I know:
--why barns are painted red
--the pros and cons of various home construction green technologies
--how to get the cat urine smell out of your carpet
--which tomato varieties do well in this climate
--where to eat the best pizza and cheesecake in the state
--that Wisconsin grows more cranberries than Massachusetts
--it's good when only 4 hunters get shot on the opening day of deer season
--that it's helpful to use CCleaner on your computer occasionally
--when the best time to buy your airplane tickets to Europe is
--why it's important that there is not a drastic difference between the humidity in your house and the humidity outside
Recently, I listened to an entire show devoted to ice fishing. As I was learning about ice fishing augers, rods, and shelters, as well as a good technique for drilling your holes, I realized that they were talking about people ice fishing on Madison's lakes RIGHT NOW. I assumed people only ice fished in the northern backwoods of the state because, well, I just couldn't imagine people out fishing on Madison's lakes. They are so BIG. How could they possibly be frozen?? I just couldn't wrap my mind around the idea of that much ICE. (Geez, the culture shock continues.) I also couldn't understand that people just walk out on those lakes, drill a hole, and plop down on an overturned 5 gallon bucket. It was so....foreign to me.
So on Christmas afternoon I declared that I needed to see these frozen lakes for myself. And I needed to see a real, live ice fisherman. Despite my love, I couldn't just take Larry Meiller's word for it.
That is when we set off on our Christmas drive.
We first drove along frozen Lake Wingra.
It is the smallest of our four lakes. This is where we planned to go kayaking but never did. Now it is more suitable for ice skating and cross country skiing.
Next, we took in a view of the Madison skyline across frozen Lake Monona.
That ice is supposedly several feet thick. How did that happen? I guess Physical Science 100 didn't really sink in.
Oh, and then we hit the jackpot! They're real, and they're everywhere. Ice fishermen!
I guess Larry Meiller was right.
But I did have to step out onto the ice myself. Because seeing wasn't believing. I needed to feel it solid under my feet.
The ice was very solid. (I will never doubt you again, Larry Meiller.)
During our drive, we also meandered through the arboretum, which is criss-crossed with lovely trails.
I have another confession. For a moment, I looked at those trails, and I imagined a romantic winter walk over the crunchy snow. Or some aerobic cross-country skiing. Or taking up snow shoeing. I looked longingly at the middle-aged couples out in the snow. And, I admit, that for a brief moment I wished I didn't have small children. That I could be free to take a winter walk with my husband whenever the mood should strike. That I could simply leave the house without finding a babysitter or organizing a play date or figuring out some way to bring the kids along. I wondered if those middle-aged couples knew how good they have it.
I told Greg what I was thinking.
He reminded me of the kids' faces that morning. And the fun we had with the tunnel. And I suddenly realized how good WE have it!
Christmas with children is THE BEST. It does not get any better, in my opinion. Their innocent attitudes and believing hearts and excited faces make up for the inconveniences a thousand times over. It's like we're in the Golden Age of Christmas right now. We have children who are old enough to understand and believe and anticipate. But young enough to be somewhat protected from the deluge of commercialism, young enough to be thrilled with new toys of any price, young enough to say really cute things. Old enough to participate in family traditions; young enough to still think they are genuinely fun.
I am so....lucky. I just feel so dang LUCKY to have such a wonderful little family. I feel so dang LUCKY to have this much fun on Christmas. Is that really allowed? To have such awesome Christmases year after year? (Even when Greg was gone we had a great time!)
So this is my real Christmas confession (sorry, Larry Meiller, but it has nothing to do with you):
I am the luckiest person in the world.
