The sun is shining
The grass is green
The orange and palm trees sway.
I’ve never seen such a day
In Beverly Hills LA.
But it’s December the 24th
And I am longing to be up North.

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
With every Christmas card I write.
May your days be merry and bright.
And may all your Christmases be white.

Irving Berlin penned the lyrics to White Christmas in 1942 while living in L.A. and missing his family in the Northeast. What most people aren’t familiar with is the long-forgotten first stanza of this famous song [see above] where he laments about being where the grass is green and palm trees sway. He could only dream and reminisce what it used to be like.

So, I blame it on Irving Berlin. If it weren’t for White Christmas, we might never have gotten it into our heads that we needed snow at Christmas in order for it to be a ‘perfect’ Christmas.  Is this where the notion that it should be snowing at Christmas comes from? What about all those Christmas movies where it magically starts to snow on Christmas? What about all the commercials on television during this time of year—isn’t it always snowing? Somehow snow on Christmas has become the ideal, and if you don’t have any you feel cheated.

Really, he ruined it for me. I’ve always expected snow for the holidays. When it didn’t come, it just didn’t seem like Christmas. I grew up in upstate New York where snow was usually plentiful by Christmas. When we moved to Florida in my teen years it seemed very strange indeed not to have any chance of it. On to Colorado, where in the earlier years there was very often snow on the ground for Christmas. But not always. I think the best Christmas-y weather and feelings as an adult came when we lived in Germany for two years back in 1983-85. It was cold, snowy, and walking through the Kriskindlmarkts sipping on glüwein to keep warm always put me in the mood.

I’ve always had this little dream vision in my head about taking a sleigh ride through crisp, frosty air and pulling up to a house brightly lit from within, complete with a roaring fire. Maybe I’ve combined several Christmas songs into my dream. I found the graphic above in my stash of clip art [I added the words] which pretty much is my vision of what it should be like.

One year Rick and I did manage to stay at a lovely inn in Aspen for my birthday [which comes a mere three days after the big event] where there was a lot of snow and we even went for a sleigh ride. But the sleigh was more like a wagon on runners and many other people shared the ride with us. It was close, the closest I have come to living out that dream, but not it.

As I sit in my study typing this entry, we have a gray and bleak day outside my window. It’s been raining; not snowing. The temperature stands in the high 40s and is not going to be dropping anytime soon to allow those gorgeous ice crystals to form and drop to earth. It’s very much looking like we’ll be having a non-White Christmas this year. Again.  ~ Sigh~  Over the years I’ve resigned myself to the fact that the ‘perfect’ White Christmas will only ever exist in one place: in my imagination. Down deep inside I know that snow does not make a Christmas, yet every year I keep watching the weather forecasts and the sky. Hoping. Waiting.

Mr. Berlin, it’s all your fault.

They crop up on lawns everywhere around here, just like a bad case of crabgrass or a disease that spreads. They come in about 300 different types and varieties. Sometimes there can even be three or four to a yard. They can be lighted, or not. It can be snowing inside them, or not. What are these alien life forms you ask? Inflatables! Also known as “airblowns.” They have a constant flow of air keeping them inflated. Just plug them in and away they go! Hey-ho! Many people only leave them plugged in at night for display purposes so that during the day they just lay on lawns like spent bladders. Splat. Flat on the ground in one big puddle of plastic and fabric, and not very attractive.

Before moving to New Jersey, neither Rick or I had seen this form of holiday decoration before. They just haven’t caught on in Colorado I guess. But they are big here, very big.

I couldn’t resist photographing them when I went by a local nursery and saw their huge selection. It was just too funny to pass up. So, I’m sharing with you some of the different varieties.

Here are the snowglobes, complete with snow and waving snowmen.

And then there are the carousel kind where the gingerbread men go round and round inside. Oh, and one of the guys on the lot who was curious about what I was doing taking all these photos assured me that all the macho guys want either Santa on a chopper [second photo behind the soldier], or maybe Mickey Mouse.

Okay, have you seen enough? I know I have. Hmm…tacky? Yes, definitely. But they at least show that people have the spirit of the holiday season in their hearts, even if the don’t have any taste in outdoor holiday decorations. Let’s just say that the whole inflatable situation around here is…well…overblown.

P.S. If you haven’t quite had your fill of inflatables, check out their website www.gemmy.com
They are based in Texas, which somehow doesn’t come as too much of a surprise. Texas does everything, uhm, well…big.

What could be more perfect than nature’s very own brightly colored tree ornament?

Whether strung as garland, used as table decor or served as a side dish with Christmas dinner, the versatile cranberry had long been part of our holiday traditions.

Americans consume some 400 million pounds of cranberries a year, but demand for the popular berry is international. Today, cranberries are used in thousands of products worldwide, from cereals to salsas. Seven of 10 cranberries sold in the world today come from Ocean Spray, an agricultural cooperative owned by more than 650 cranberry growers in the United States and Canada. The bright red berries are harvested each autumn from farms in Massachusetts, New Jersey, Oregon, Washington, Wisconsin, and part of British Columbia and Quebec. New Jersey ranks third in the nation for production of cranberries Who knew?

Pilgrims learned about the cranberry from American Indians who harvested the berry for food, medicinal purposes, and to make dye for rugs, clothing and blankets. Indians sweetened the tart berry with honey or maple sugar. By mashing it with fat and deer meat, they were also able to create pemmican, a highly nutritional cake that helped them survive long winters when game was scarce.

Contrary to popular belief, historians say that the cranberry was not among the foods consumed by the Pilgrims at the first Thanksgiving, but it did become a staple in the diet of early settlers. Cranberries can be found in recipes dating back to the early 1700s. Known by several different American Indian terms like atoqua, sassamanesh and ibimi, the English word cranberry evolved from “crane berry,” a name bestowed on the fruit by Dutch and German settlers who thought its blossom resembled the head and bill of a crane.

For recipes and craft ideas such as topiaries, wreaths and more visit Ocean Spray’s website.
For more information visit the Cape Cod Cranberry Growers Association here.
~Taken in part from an article that appeared in the West Milford Messenger