Bygone Bicyclist

Peacefully easing, magical. I couldn’t come up with a much better description of the feeling of a great reader or speaker acting the below. Nearly two hundred years ago, and yet it still remains as powerful and moving. This simply encompasses the magic of the holidays and Christmas. It gives me chills, actually.

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Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And Mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

Long work days (and nights) have kept much of my free time lately. When not working, or sleeping, I seem to be spending my time cooking. Tonight I am spending much of my time doing so; truffles, cookies and pies – oh my! That said, it’s a fantastic night for it. Outside it’s in the low 40s, windy and raining. It may be a white Christmas after all! A few days ago I experimented with an apple pie with blackberries, ginger and cardamom. The crust was exquisite, filling amazing and presentation gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve ever made a pie so perfect before. Since, I’ve decided that to be my Christmas dinner cooking project.

Snow.

Strange weather really. As debates heat over global warming, we see some of the coldest temperatures for the month / year in many places. In some cases, we even see all time low records being broken – see: Alberta, Canada breaks record low by 10 degrees Celsius. While the effects of modern day humans obviously has *some* effect on the atmosphere, temperatures over the last two winters have been quite bitter – more so than “average”. Since arriving after my long commute, the average low here has been around 30. Winter hasn’t even struck yet! No, this post isn’t about the weather, global warming or what you think.

My time on research and planning has been halted a fair bit lately by work. Soon updates will be more plentiful, but until then, they may be a little sparse. The winter holidays don’t help at all in that department either. Things are hectic and days are short. The weather has inhibited my riding a fair bit since arrival, but it is supposed to be warming a little bit this week. Perhaps this weekend I will get in some decent riding time. Of the two bikes I brought with me, only the penny is functional right now. I tore apart my fixed gear (my ‘training’ bike) to give it a paint job. It’s coming out quite fantastic, and I can’t wait to get it all back together and see it done.

Coming right along. Forgive the camera-phone.

Christmas nears and I can’t help reminisce the magic years ago. Most people grow out of the magic of certain childhood discoveries, beliefs and / or mysteries. Christmas seems to be a subject drawn dismal to most as time goes by. Maybe it’s partially society. Perhaps it’s growing out of tradition. It could be the many a reason, not just a specific something. Either way, I have so many fond memories of Christmas times as a child. Some will argue the ‘reason for Christmas’ versus the commerciality of the common Christmas (while ‘reason for the season’ definitely can differ from person to person).

That said, there are things I miss and feel myself drawn to more this year than perhaps in the near past. I haven’t had a real tree in my house in over 5 years. My dad and I used to volunteer at the Christmas tree lot, and some of those times are the most fond of my youth. I don’t get to sing in the choir this year (and regret that). I haven’t caroled in over a decade, and Christmas music, overall, seems something that has slipped from my life. The last few weeks I have been listening to some of the all time (as well as some not quite as popular) greatest recordings of Christmas songs and I’m really brought back to a time of joy and comfort. It’s almost as if a door has opened, and light is allowed to shine the dark abyss, ultimately warming and pleasing the receiver. Do yourself a favor this year: listen, sing and enjoy some Christmas classics!

I know I can attest to this, and for that very reason I make such an assessment. Rarely does it seem I (or many people) have time to just sit down and reflect on things. Reflecting on things so fond and moving in your life can often be the answer to the question you feel unanswered for some time. Looking back at times of joy and cheer give insight to what could possibly give you such a feeling again. The holidays are depressing to some, but I think many could find great joy by acting out their holiday with more fruitful acts. Even if you’re happy or just neutral, try to give yourself 5-15 minutes a day to think, write and reflect. It can do wonders for the soul.