DO YOU HAVE THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT?

FROM WHERE I SIT   Do You Have the Christmas Spirit?  12/10/13  P.D. SPILSETH

I had been dreaming of a white Christmas.  No more!  Tossing and turning at night, trying to stay warm under umpteen down comforters, wool socks, and flannel pajamas, tonight I’m thinking about wearing a wool night cap, like the guy in “Twas the night before Christmas.”  I can’t get warm!  It’s snowed almost every day for a week.  When will the whiteness and frigid weather end?

Trudging through snowbanks to the mailbox for the morning paper, I look up into the early morning sky, and my grumpy mood recedes.  Stars are blazing in the clear, black sky.  I don’t know the names of all the constellations that are on display, but they’re up there performing their magic on my senses.  It is a beautiful sight.   By midmorning, when I look out at the sun brightening the snow blanketed lake with patterned gray shadows, the scene is a picture postcard.  

Though the sun eventually causes the thermometer to rise a teeny bit, whooshing winds blow blasts of stinging cold against the rattling windows of our house.  How lucky I am that I don’t have to shovel the walk or get into a cold car and drive to work.   I can sit inside writing a column or put together a jigsaw puzzle in front of the frosty windows.  It’s a candyland world outdoors.  Tall pines and black branches are frosted with white icing.  The branches remind me of chocolate candy sticks against today’s snowball sun.  

The furnace is overactive this morning.  It belches warmth, whistling heat through the registers.  Ours is a 1950s house with large windows overlooking the lake: my brain can’t help but compute astronomical heating bills.  Even though we’ve replaced windows and added insulation, it’s still cold.  We try to be environmentally conscious: every evening our house thermometer automatically lowers its reading to 55 degrees.  That’s perfect sleeping temperature for my body covered with down blankets and piled high with mountains of patchwork quits.  

Though I look forward to Christmas holiday mail and company, my festive spirits are dipping this year.  Christmas carols are playing on the radio, and my egg beaters are whirling.  The smells of cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg permeate the kitchen, but I’m dreading shopping for that overwhelming, Christmas shopping list.  I used to love the hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers, but now I hate going to the stores to fight crowds, braving icy, snow-packed streets, and wearing heavy coats, boots and hats.  I’d prefer staying at home in a warm house.

Today’s Big Box stores feature common items that can be found in every store.  Often they’re priced to be a bargain because discount coupons litter each morning newspaper.  Shoppers are becoming so used to receiving coupons, why would anyone purchase something at full price?  

Growing up in Glenwood, shopping was easy.  Potters’ Dime store was my shopping haven.  I could buy a holiday box of Life Savers for my little sister Barbie, ribbon candy for Mom, and chocolates for Dad.  If I had saved enough allowance money, I could shop for a beautiful china figurine or a candy dish at Callaghans’ Hardware.   I could afford prices at these shops and still have money for a movie at the Glenwood Theatre, where Santa stopped in his sleigh to see the kids.  When Dad shopped for Mom, he’d go to Glenwear, the fancy shop of women’s clothing.   That’s where he found the red dress with a circle skirt and rhinestone buttons, Mom’s favorite  dress.  And at Irgens’ Men’s Store, we’d purchase a Pendleton wool plaid shirt for Dad and maybe a box of handkies.  Christmas shopping could be done in an hour or two.  Small town Mom & Pop stores were great!   Every clerk knew every shopper’s name, and it was easy to get into the Christmas spirit!   

In the Cities, many of us miss those individually owned stores that used to line the Nicollet Mall like Harolds, Peck and Peck, Napier, Schlamps, Young-Quinlin and Daytons’ classy department store.   Sure, prices were not discounted like today’s common selection, but each store had a uniqueness, an individuality.   Special items would tantalize our eyes and urge folks to open their wallets.  Most shoppers probably couldn’t afford to buy huge bundles of things, but what they got was special.  The unique selection of treasures was hard to resist.  There’s always been something exhilaritating and intoxicating about unique, just out-of-reach treasures one rarely finds.   

When I was a kid and December arrived, my folks would make our once a year trip to the Cities to see the Christmas windows on the Nicollet Mall.  I can still feel the magic in my tummy when I remember staring wide-eyed at Daytons’ window displays of glittering, sparkly items and moving figures.   Holiday windows had crowds glued to their windows, jostling for a better view.  It was a magical scene.  Everyone got into the holiday spirit: young, old, rich and poor.   Truth be told, I didn’t really expect to buy or receive any of these miracularous treasures under our tree at home.   We didn’t have much money, but we sure enjoyed looking at those decorated Christmas windows.  We dreamed about them for weeks. 879 words