Of Angels and Autumn Leaves

Of Angels and Autumn Leaves

     As we are heading into the time when decorating for the holidays becomes a primary activity (though for some of us, the arrival of our Better Homes and Gardens is a highlight in each month), I thought I'd go a-Waltzing Matilda into the past--and present and probably future.
     My mother is a wonderful decorator, though I must say that I sometimes question the presence of so many artificial flowers in her decor, and decorates the house for the seasons.  Since we are in November, we'll start with Autumn in our tread down leaf-filled memory lane.  Around late August each year, Mom changes out towels (kitchen and bath), soaps (Those are not for washing! Use the apple-scented liquid hand soap!), candles (that set the table on fire), tablecloths, and various and sundry decorative items throughout the house, including Autumn-themed plates and glasses.  The house looks and smells lovely, and though I confess to a sneaking sympathy with her in this, I'm not certain Daddy is altogether enthusiastic.  However, he is too much of a gentleman to complain, and, at least in the Autumn, Mom doesn't make him do much work.
     Christmas, on the other hand, is a leaf of a different color.  Thanksgiving weekend all the Fall items give up the ghost to prepare for Christmases Past, Present, and Future, who all inhabit the house at the same time.  All the linens are replaced with Christmas ones; all the brown and golden dishes are replaced with those bearing the holly and the ivy.  Snow falls on the Lighted Town with its cobbled roads.  Chief Elf Daddy has the task (and I really think he likes it, despite various protests) of gracing the yard and outside of the house with lights and glowing deer.  This requires much ladder climbing, which he does well, though he's not one of the Jacob's Ladder Angels.
     And that brings us to. . . Angels!  Angels of every kind and description herald the birth of two different Baby Jesuses.  At last count there were over 150 angels taking their places in the highest heavens of the home, and only though out and about were counted, not the ones left behind to mind the Streets paved with Gold.  Cute "Micah" angels, angels from North Africa, angels with fur-lined hoods from Norse regions, angels with no faces, crocheted angels, wooden angels, waxen angels, metal angels, angels made of raw cotton blossoms, cloth angels, cross-stitched angels, Chihuahua angels, ad infinitum.
     Speaking of Chihuahuas, Ginger and now Gus, since Duke has gone to the Happy Hunting Grounds, do not escape their own Christmas doom.  Collars such as Shakespeare and Queen Elizabeth did not imagine adorn their soft (and in Ginger's case, plump) necks.  They put up with the collars with a sort of resigned acceptance given that they do not have opposable thumbs and the Alpha Male of their pack does not seem inclined to tell the Alpha Female to leave the pups alone.  Pathetic to behold is Gus, in his elf ears, which is actually my sister's doing.
     Then there is O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!  The tree, large and artificial so as not to be a mess and to be as economical as possible (there the Alpha Male does draw the line), stands imposingly with exquisite raiment of ribbons in gold and white (or whatever color pallet is appreciated this year), glistening icicles and snow, winter birds, beads, and yes, another angel standing as the beneficent guardian of the glorious Pomona in all her winter radiance.
     However, most notable are the treats Mom is so adept at making for Christmas.  Quite apart from the pecan pie and black-bottom pie (complete with rum), there are the "Out of This World" candies.  I think powdered sugar is in them (I'll write about that later, as it's a family joke), and they are divided into mint and almond flavors, colored green and pink, respectively.  To add insult to delight, these rich and toothsome treats are rolled into balls, frozen, then dipped in chocolate.  Placed in the freezer again, they are a refreshing and most-tempting addition to any holiday gathering.  Let us also not forget the drinks--homemade spiced tea, apple cider, and hot chocolate are crowning jewels of the season.
     Christmas does not end until Valentine's Day when Pomona changes her garb.  Instead of icicles and snow, she dons red, heart-shaped jewels and ribbons to complement her raiment.  Then, oh, then, Love is in the air -- or rather in the soaps, towels, candles, and tablecloths.  Soft pinks and bright reds cover the landscape.
  When Spring arrives sometime near Easter, Pomona's raiment changes to soft pastels of blue, pink, yellow, and green.  Her jewels are eggs and flowers.  Flowered dishes and towels, garlands of roses, and pink damask tablecloths adorn the inside of the home, whereas flowers of many kinds and colors grace the outside.  For that both Daddy and Mom are responsible.  They have green thumbs and the drive to work a garden to loveliness.  Birds and butterflies and bees love to alight in the branches and drink from the flowers.  The garden is bright and alive with color.  Pomona eventually retires for Summer and Fall, to rest and recuperate from the long season of work and jollity.  The season of flowers lasts until Autumn, when change comes again, as surely as Springtime and Harvest, world without end, Amen.