Boxing Day.



We're in the land of White Christmas, and yesterday, not even a flake. Warm rain. This could slow us down, as we try to keep the cold next to the plates. But we buttoned up and took a couple days off, even as a strong wind shook every corner of the tent.

Why is Christmas Day so strangely difficult? Is it the songs? The "here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore . . " when we aren't like that at all? The grandparents who filled in our sense of family with a history they carried around with them, are gone. We follow in the spaces we took up as children, somehow yearning for the comfort and joy we had when someone else worried about the boogie man.



Yesterday, Christmas day, in the town where Gord grew up, where he watered his backyard rink from the basement window of the house his father built on Queensway Gardens, where he caught the passes at the football games, where he won golf Junior club championships, where he and his brothers and sister sat in deep snow and tobogganed down the steep hill at Firemen's Park -- the wind blows through these spaces. No one sits on the rickety bleachers in the middle of the field. The bank on the corner where he worked summers, is gone. The car dealership - his father's business - which held a place in the community -- the genesis of many Halloran family stories -- is a parking lot next to a Chinese restaurant in neon. Last year we were the parents. This year, we are the grandparents.

As a child, a day lasts a long time, and you fall asleep exhausted and spent, with a smile on your face, clutching the baseball glove or the hockey stick.

But as you get older, it's just another rainy day - and the White Christmas you hear about in every store - has gone the way of the sleigh bells. We have supper together, and tear into forgettable gifts and hug each other's warmth, making a memory for our offspring.



Friday the 23rd, together, we saw Joyeux Noel, and I cried through the entire film. It's the story of the spontaneous cease-fire on the front during World War I - and how that amazing event changed everyone's lives -- the French, the Scots, the Germans. It put us In The Mood, put our lives into perspective the day before Christmas Eve. I fixed pasta and we all gathered together in the large living room to watch - from start to finish - with sing along -- The Sound of Music. On Christmas Eve, It's a Wonderful Life.



During the day,Christmas Eve, we visited the new Buddhist mega church where we met a wonderful old man with sparkling eyes and true happiness reflected in his eyes. 10,000 virtues each sat in rows on the walls, brass statues covered in gold.



Then, up against fenced off Nature with a capital N. Niagara Falls.



The sky was darkening and suddenly it was 4:30.



We had a half hour left before the touristy stores closed on Clifton Hill. We were sort of boycotting the buy-frenzy but we had a team game where everyone gets one gift, so we had to set out. Here's The Don having a dog.



Here's Jaz overwhelmed by the hype.



Here's Erik and Jaz on Christmas night, voting as one for the gift they wanted to keep and treasure -- a snow globe.



To shake down the winter. To make the snow fall.