What I Did On My Winter Vacation

The schools have all been closed this week (not to mention part of last week). With Presidents' Day on Monday, that will make a total of three full days of school over an eleven-weekday period. Now, I realize that there's no school during the summer and I have to deal with it and create schedules and such, but it's a whole different animal when we have to check the website each night to see what tomorrow will bring. Planning and expectations become difficult.

Finally, after the first storm was over and we'd gotten out of the neighborhood for a few hours, I felt like I could take control of the situation. And I did; I present my first (and possibly only) foray into homeschool. I made it all up using the resources suggested on the super Arlington County Snow Learning page.

Day 1

9:20 am: Morning meeting. The three-year-old chose "On Top of Spaghetti" for our morning song. We sang all three verses. He was then given a huge pile of coloring pages to work through at his leisure.

9:25: Science. I printed out two items for each girl from the Library of Congress's Everyday Mysteries page. The first-grader read about and presented a report on "How The Grapefruit Got Its Name" and "Fun Facts About Squash". The fifth-grader read about and reported on "Is a Coconut a Nut, a Fruit, or a Seed?" and "How Does Sunscreen Work?" Everyone learned something new. Next they were given the first half of a standardized science test for grades 3 and 5 respectively. (And they did very respectably.)

10:15: Art. The three older kids were given floam and the older two were asked to create a gallery of sculpted animals native to Australia and New Zealand. The three-year-old spent a long time making a perfect sphere.

10:50: Silent reading

11:30: snack

11:45: Music. The fifth-grader practiced her clarinet in one room while the first-grader was supposed to be doing one of two assignments on the keyboard. I was putting the one-year-old down for a nap and came back to a pouty and uncooperative young girl. Hmm. More musical guidance and instruction needed there, I guess. Half a concert followed.

12:20 pm: Physical Education: Yoga with Denise Austin. Lots of participation, even by the three-year-old. He does a funky tree-pose.

1:00: Writing. The girls were given the same writing prompt with 20 minutes to write and a recitation following. Today's prompt came from the 2006 Virginia Department of Education Standards of Learning Test for 5th graders. It read: "Imagine that you are suddenly able to fly whenever you want. Where would you go? What would you do? Write to explain your new talent and how you would use it." Interesting answers- too involved to go into here.

1:45: lunch, followed by recess

2:15: Math: I printed several first-grade worksheets and also half of the 2006 VA. D.O.E. S.O.L. math test for 6th graders. Just about right.

3:00: dismissal

They were very excited about the whole thing (or we wouldn't have tried to do so much!) and gave their reports to Dad that evening.

Day 2 was slightly different. Most of the first hour was spent on geography. The first-grader did a map study worksheet and some state shape-matching (from the same website as her math worksheets) and the fifth-grader did some online research and a report on Yemen. (Her conclusion was that she didn't think it was a very interesting place and didn't want to go there. Hilarious.) Next was Art and we spent a very long time making Valentine's Day cards for family and friends since I was pretty sure they wouldn't be having any class parties. I had them finish the rest of their science tests and more above-level math.

Finally, there was writing. The older one was assigned the first 2 sections of the 2006 VA. D.O.E. S.O.L "End of Course" writing test and she did pretty well. The younger one was assigned the 8th grade writing prompt: "Imagine you have a time machine and you are able to transport one person from the past to the present for one day. Whom would you choose? Write about why you chose this person and your visit with this person." She wrote about Betsy Ross (whom she mistakenly called "Betty Crocker" in her first draft) and how she wanted learn how to sew as well as Betsy did. This came complete with a drawing of a time machine. Now, it just so happened that Dad was watching the 1960's film adaptation of H.G. Wells' "The Time Machine" last night, so she had some idea what one might look like. (The kids didn't watch the whole film, just enough to get their imaginations going without scaring them.) Good times.

Overall, this was a very productive experiment. The kids appreciated having structure, brain food, and fun. Yes, flying by the seat of my pants was a lot of work- maybe more than real homeschooling is since normally one would make up lesson plans way ahead and could order helpful kits, etc. Tomorrow will be a light afternoon version since we're spending the morning with Grandma. But Monday will not be a "school holiday" here at our house... three day weekends may never be the same again (cue evil laugh).

Enjoy the pictures of snow and school.

My path for the garbage bins and other backyard access.

We both did a fair amount of upper-body/lower-back strengthening exercise over the last week.

One kid even helped!

Highlighted in blue is the path I shoveled for the little guys. Two feet is too deep to be fun when you're 3.

Monday was "Indoor Fort Day" and it was used as a Native American tent- mostly.

Weighing the Value of Santa Claus

The Jolly Old Elf and I have been at odds for years now. We used to get along fine so long as we left each other alone. But then something changed.

My first child was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in the late 1990’s and I was inclined to absorb the prevalent local culture of parenting. That culture questioned the need to blithely pass on traditions of any kind without scrutinizing them first. So I checked my lists twice before allowing things into her world and Santa just didn’t make the cut. I felt deeply responsible for creating an environment in which a fresh new soul could grow unencumbered by popular culture. I made a promise to her (and thus to her subsequent siblings) that I would try to be honest about everything. I wanted her to believe me when I told her stories about Jesus Christ, so I figured I’d have to be truthful about the reality of Santa Claus- and anything else she wanted to know. That’s a rather idealistic viewpoint, I know. I believed in Santa for a few years myself and yet have a deep testimony of the reality of my Savior, so the logic might be faulty. But I felt strongly about it and kept my word as best I could.

When she was almost four years old, we moved to Ohio. Our new home had a little fireplace. That winter, the question came. “Mom, how does Santa get in? He can’t fit down our chimney and I know you lock the doors at night. Is he real?” I asked her what she thought and let her work it out herself. I didn’t give a direct “no” because I knew part of her wanted to believe, but I supported her conclusion that maybe the story wasn’t all true.

And yet, part of it was true. When that same daughter was two, we lived in Turkey for ten months. Turkey is known for lots of interesting things, Saint Nicholas among them. He was the Bishop in Myra in the 4th century and that area of Lycia has not forgotten him. As I was exposed to the history, my heart softened some. Maybe there was a place for part of this tradition in the lives of my children. But how does one balance it?

Daughter number two asked the question a few years ago. This time my answer was, “Yes, he was real.” A simple explanation followed that revealed the truth about Saint Nicholas and his example as one of the believers. I also explained that Santa Claus, as portrayed in Clement Moore’s poem, is a character in a story.

You might guess that I’ve never taken my kids to the mall to sit on Santa’s lap, and you’d be right. In fact, my favorite mall Santa was the one at AnkaMall in Turkey; he stood inside the entrance and sold lottery tickets. It seemed so appropriate.

I no longer wince every time I see this icon of the holiday season. I’ve made my peace with him by allowing him a small supporting role in our celebration of this most Christian of Holy Days.

And he’s stopped putting coal in my stocking.

Having Repented...

... I can now get into the Christmas spirit. No, it's not wintery, but I'm not going to let that get in the way. I heard you playing "My Heart Bleeds For You" on the world's smallest violin, so I'll not complain about the weather anymore.

I've been listening to Christmas music shamelessly since early November, but it wasn't until we got out all the Christmas books last night that things changed. (See here for a great post on Christmas books.) We also put up some of the decorations we brought with us, and NOW we feel more holiday cheer. Part of it was watching the kids get really excited about their favorite books, sit down and pour over them until their eyes were all sparkly.

Magic.

The Purpose of Winter

Does winter matter? Is the coldest season important? What is gained by it?

I once lived where winter was wet and green, where the smell of freshly cut grass meant only one thing: Christmas. And yet, it was the coldest season Palo Alto had and so it sufficed. However, most of the time my winters have been truly frosty.

As a child, Virginia winters were plenty cold. There was ice to scrape off the windshield in the morning, it snowed a few times each year, and I knew how to wear a scarf and hat. Next came Utah winters with blowing, powdery snow and a real need for boots. The snow on the mountains stayed from October till summer. Good times.

My stretch of California winters was interrupted by one in Boston and one in Ankara- and the two were remarkably similar. Then came the Cleveland winter- brrrrr. Lake-effect snow was compounded by loneliness and insufficient insulation. (Cleveland and I didn't really get along.)

Vermont was next: cold outside but warm inside. Yes, I had to seal up a few windows for the season and it was two years before we had heating vents upstairs, but somehow the fact that I was finally home made all the difference. We were still wet behind the ears and giddy about being Vermonters. We relished the snow and making our kids don so much gear each school day morning. Shoveling massive amounts of snow from the roof and the driveway made us feel hardy and tough. Learning the wintery ropes of Northerners was a challenge made enjoyable by doing it together.

And so, is it any wonder that my "easy" winter here in Virginia has thus far failed to inspire me at all? Yes, I brought my bin of Christmas decorations, but I don't really feel like putting them up (I will, though). My good sweaters are nearly useless so far. The children balk at wearing their coats because they know it's just "not that cold".

Without truly feeling the need to button up, snuggle up or find my down slippers, preparing for Christmastime feels like the marking of just another annual event. Somehow, for me, real Christmas is much more difficult and that makes it more meaningful. The joy of the Grace given at Christ's birth is sweeter when life around you is unbearably frozen. The warmth of celebration and light is cozier when the alternative is so very dark and cold. Winter and Christmas are the great opposites, each a foil for the other.

My husband is on his way to Australia today. I am trying to get my mind around Christmas traditions that include the beach and BBQ's. If I had to celebrate Christmas in shorts, I would lack a certain element of gratitude and appreciation. Not that it can't be done, mind you, but it would be hard for me. In fact, it is hard for me to feel seasonally cheery as I sit here in a house that's 65º... without the heat on.

Fortunately, I have 24 more days to get my act together and find a way to achieve that powerful, deep joy that only comes once a year at this great season.

Maybe it will snow....

The Natives Are Getting Restless

It wasn't particularly warm today. There was still plenty of patchy snow on the ground. The sun set at 5:30, which isn't very late.

But still, still there was a feeling of restlessness among the family members today. The kind that usually comes with spring weather. It was containable, nothing out of control, but it was there. We decided to go for an afternoon drive.

We drove to Bristol and visited two friends. One had refinished part of their upstairs and we wanted to see the result. (It was very nice!) The other was a friend who requested I stop in whenever I was in town... so I did. Next we ventured to Vergennes to see if anyone else was home. Another family welcomed us and included us in the Sunday afternoon board game they were playing. We chatted about books, houses, whatever came to mind. The girls played upstairs- a rare "play date" for the four of them.

It felt good, reckless even, to go out spontaneously- without coats!- and visit friends mostly unannounced. We laughed in the face of the dying winter. We will outlast it, I'm sure of that now. Its unwelcome occupation will end as the earth revolts, rises up in her strength and breaks the chains of winter's hold. Spring! There is hope of spring.

Just feeling a little dramatic tonight.

In Vermont, Sunglasses Are Winter Gear

This is the time of year when I am especially grateful for sunshine. I know, sunshine usually goes with summer. But it's the low, glaring winter light reflecting off the pure white snow that keeps me from winter depression. I can even handle the seemingly endless days of below-freezing temperatures so long as the sun shines and fills my house with bright white light. It helps that the days are a bit longer, too.

It makes this favorite Mormon hymn float through my head.

Dreaming of Warmer Climes

The little boy loves to play in his ocean.

Dorothy Hamil Was My Hero

In January it's so nice
While slipping on the sliding ice
To sip hot chicken soup with rice
Sipping once, sipping twice
Sipping chicken soup with rice

Now that I have that old Carole King/Maurice Sendak favorite in your head, let me tell you what I did today. I started ice skating lessons! I didn't bring my chicken soup, but I did bring my stiff new ice skates (ouch!) and my courage.

A month ago, while perusing the list of available Middlebury College Winter Workshops, Q suggested I pick a 4-week class to try this year. Since I have little interest in Advanced Wine Education and Appreciation or Fly Casting or Kathak dancing, I chose something I've always wanted to do better: skating. I can keep myself up on the ice without holding on to the boards, but I've never had any formal instruction. As my in-law family members can attest, I could use it.

I missed the first two lessons last week due to travel, so I was not nearly as confident today as the other beginners. They were already doing swizzles and backward wiggles and pumps and stuff. They even knew how to stop- well, most of them did. But all 7 of us were clearly out of our comfort zones, wishing we didn't wobble so much and wondering when we were going to biff it. Luckily, none of us did.

I enjoyed it immensely despite the uncomfortable skates and slippery surface. It was fun to try something new that I'm most definitely NOT good at and see an improvement in an hour of guidance and practice. And the fun doesn't end there; tomorrow I get to see which muscles I only use on the ice!

Good Snow Tires Are Worth The Price

[Setting: Beside an icy highway]

[We pan right to see the 30 Marens in coats and hats]

Announcer: 30 Marens Agree...

30 Marens: [in unison] Good snow tires are worth the price!

[The Marens all nod in agreement]

Maren Porter: You should always buy the best snow tires you can afford. It's money well-spent.

Maren Chandler: You don't want to look like a flatlander with no sense, honey! You'd be sliding all over creation!

Maren Olsen: Because so much is riding on your tires.

[The Marens continue to nod]

Announcer: 30 Marens Agree. Good snow tires are worth the price.

Life's Little Detours

Happy New Year! If the first night is any indication, then this will be a year of unpredictability and hidden surprises, not all of them bad.

I expected to spend the midnight hour tucking our family into a hotel room in Salt Lake City, Utah, having just greeted most of the members of my husband's family. But sometimes the best laid travel plans go all awry. Instead, I watched the dashboard clock silently ring in the New Year as I merged from the outer loop of the Capital Beltway onto 620 West, also known as Braddock Road. That's right, we spent the night at MY parents' house in Virginia.

We had tickets to fly out of JFK on New Year's Eve at about 7pm. We decided to drive down there because it was less expensive than flying from Burlington. I had succinct lists for each leg of this trip and the packing was efficient, with no room to spare. We headed out at about 9:45 in the morning with light snow falling. We traveled south and watched the road condition deteriorate as we went. Drivers were being cautious- a little too cautious in our opinion- and we saw our generous lead time slip away. We finally got up to the posted speed limit when we made it onto I-87 in New York state.

The kids were generally good in the car, though the littlest one had a few episodes of frustration when he wanted to get out of his carseat and have me hold him. The reason why I wouldn't was beyond his understanding. But we made it across the Bronx in decent time and by 5pm we were on the Van Wyck- nearly to the airport- when my husband's mobile phone rang. He answered it and listened as the recording from the airline relayed the unfortunate news that our flight had been cancelled due to high winds. They had re-booked us on another flight to Salt Lake City two days later.

WHAT?! Oh no, no, no. That wasn't going to work at all.

We parked in the short-term lot and Q, the master negotiator an elite medallion card holder, went in to see what could be done. I stayed in the car and let 4 kids blow off steam for 45 minutes. We broke out some of the special airplane snacks I'd been saving and talked through the wishes and complaints of the 5 year old.

Q came back with our anticipated Plan B: 5 seats on a flight out of IAD (Dulles Airport) the next afternoon. We headed back out onto the road and I tried calling my parents, who weren't home. Hmmm. New Year's Eve... they were probably at my sister's, though I didn't know her new phone number off the top of my head. I tried my other sister, with no luck. What to do, what to do. Was it possible they were out of town? Possible, yes. I closed my eyes and stood next to the phone list on the side of my refrigerator. There it was! I dialed my younger sister's number but it didn't connect. I tried switching two numbers around, but that wasn't right either. No, I was sure I had seen it correctly, so I tried again. Bingo, Ed answered.

They were a little surprised, to say the least, but rather excited to have us overnight. I figured we would roll in about midnight, which gave my Mom plenty of time to make everything look as though she had been expecting us for weeks. We slowly poured our ready cash into toll booth after toll booth and made our way south again. As we crossed the next state line, we announced it to the interested parties in the back seat.

"New Jersey?" the 5 year old said. "But we don't even speak that language!"

"And what language do you suppose they speak here?" we wondered.

"New Jersey," came her reply. She noted that the man at the toll booth had an accent and wasn't sure he was speaking English.

We forget sometimes that our children haven't had the breadth of experiences we have had and their perspective is often quite funny. When we stopped for "dinner" at the Thomas Edison rest stop, she also noticed several things that she shared with us: a person wearing shorts (on a cold, blustery night), a set of twins, and that many people there had darker skin than hers. She's a good junior scientist.

As the hours ticked by, people in the car began to fall asleep. One child was too excited and had a difficult time being patient or sleeping. Guess which one. I switched seats with my husband and drove the last leg wide awake on adrenaline and one Dr. Pepper. I hardly ever drink caffeinated soft drinks, so when I do they really work for me. I could write a whole post on long drives and their associated soft drinks, but that's for another time. I discovered that 11:15 on New Year's Eve is a great time to drive on I-95 in Baltimore. It was nowhere near the bottleneck it usually is.

11:38. The beautiful Washington D.C. Temple rose from the car in front of me and appeared to be my destination. Unfortunately not this time. 11:49. I passed Tyson's Corner- Hi, Aunt Janet! 11:52. I passed familiar street names like Lee Highway, Arlington Boulevard, and Little River Turnpike. 11:59. I tapped Q on the arm and wished him a happy New Year as I exited the highway. Braddock Road was nearly empty, though I passed a few cars pulled over by officers of the law. By 12:25 I was carrying sleeping children and overnight backpacks into my old home, greeting my parents and looking forward to my sister's family coming over later that day.

We had a wonderful short visit and my Dad drove us to the airport the next afternoon. We eventually made it to Utah and drove into my Mother-in-law's driveway almost a day late, but intact and grateful for a few nice surprises among the ruins of our original travel plans.

How was your New Year's Eve celebration?

The Gift

The kids received many wonderful presents this Christmas and they have been quite busy enjoying all of them. However, the thing that inspires the most squabbling is... (drum roll)... the 2 year old's new Slinky! Everyone wants to play with it, especially if someone else already is. Amazing.

We had a nice, spiritual Christmas Eve followed by an enjoyable Christmas morning- complete with our traditional "last present" treasure hunt with rhyming clues. (It led to a small new CD player for the girls' bedroom.) We had a great time when my sister's family came on Christmas night, feasting on veggies, meatballs, chips, apple cider and egg nog. We all got up before the sun to see them off on their Canadian ski trip the next morning and it was over all too soon. As we sat down for lunch later that day, my son held up his cup and said, "Dad, can I have some more door knob in my cup, please?" We all cracked up- egg nog, my dear. It's called egg nog.

I love the Christmas Season. I'm glad for the traditions we experience every year and the extra layer of meaning they acquire annually. Most of all I'm grateful for Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who submitted himself to the will of our Father and created the path back to Him. He is the way whereby we return to our Father and the means whereby we become all that we were designed to be.

"He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?" (Micah 6:8) What a gift we've been given! The example and atonement of Jesus Christ are so important to me. I intend to rejoice in these gifts and try to use them every day.

Change for Change

Last year we started a new tradition of charitable giving. I put out a little jar with a sign on it which read "Change for Change" and asked all family members to drop their spare change in it during the month of December. When Christmas was near, we counted it up and chose to donate all $14 (and change) to the local Humane Society. We all enjoyed taking it over and spending some time there last year.

This year I challenged everyone to fill a bigger jar and set it out earlier in November. The girls were very generous, donating much of their allowance and piggy bank savings. Q and I were better about dropping things in as well, and dear Uncle Elliott contributed without even knowing. He brought a big bag of quarters to Sonja earlier this year to help with her 50 States quarter collection, and there were many left over so they went in, too. The end result was just over $50, much to our surprise.

A long, enjoyable discussion ensued as we tried to figure out where this "change" should go. Initially, we had thought of the Heifer Project or something similar. Many good suggestions were made and it was hard to come to a conclusion that suited everyone. In the end, we decided to split it in half and give part to the local chapter of the United Way and part to the Graham Emergency Shelter in Vergennes, both worthy causes making a difference in the local community.

There were Food Shelf donations, too, this year. The teachers requested it instead of gifts, so I took the girls to the store and let them each choose what they'd like to donate: pasta and sauce, canned vegetables, baby food.

This is the serious side of giving. It's not the kind of activity that we get giddy about, but one that is deeply meaningful to us as we do it and a sobering reminder that by the grace of God we are on the giving side. It stretches and strengthens a different part of our charitable nature, though it is by no means the hardest kind of giving. No, it's easy- maybe a little too easy for an adult like me, but I think it's enough to change my children if we do it every year. And maybe our efforts can produce a positive change in someone else's life, too. That's my hope.

Snow Loaf

We've had a bit of snow. Happy Holidays!

Sharing the Love

We have an advent calendar of holiday activities and each day the girls put a tiny ornament on the Christmas tree wall hanging and read a little slip of paper which gives us the day's activity. Some days it says "read a Christmas story book", sometimes it's "sing a Christmas song together". Once it says "visit the gingerbread house exhibit" and we go to the Vermont Folklife Museum. Once it says "Branch Activity" and we all go up to the church for great food, music and company.

Today it said "treat plates". Since it was about 12ºF outside, I left the napping boys at home with Dad and took the geared-up girls around the neighborhood. I carried the plates in a box and we went to most of our immediate neighbors' doors. As I've mentioned before I'm sure, Halloween is tolerable mainly because we get to go to all the houses around and say hello. But Halloween is just about as different from Christmas as any holiday can be aside from this one thing: I get to go around again. It's one of my very favorite parts of Christmas.

Making the treats is fun for me. I like a culinary challenge, so I rarely repeat my holiday offerings two years in a row (except for fudge). Taking the plates around to ten or so neighbors is more fun. There are a few neighbors who invite us inside the door to chat. This time with them is special because it's an education in local culture for the girls and bonding time for neighbors with whom we rarely have full conversations. I notice the little things, like religious sayings near the doorway, holiday decorations and the brightness of people's eyes. Some neighbors stand at the door and smile, accepting the goodies quietly and gracefully. Some aren't home, but will find the offerings as they return later.

Those who receive gifts which are freely given gain not just the gift, but joy as well. This is a concept we discussed last week in the LDS Religious Institute class I teach. We referenced the scripture found in the Doctrine and Covenants section 88:33 which reads: "For what doth it profit a man if a gift is bestowed upon him, and he receive not the gift? Behold, he rejoices not in that which is given unto him, neither rejoices in him who is the giver of the gift." This is in reference to the gift of the Atonement and exaltation, but I found that it worked in a small way today as well. Anyone who happily receives a plate of cookies is better off in two ways.

But the receivers of gifts are not the only ones who come away with more. The givers also receive. We spent much of the mid-day high on the giddy feeling which comes from making other people happy without any expectation of reciprocation. In his recent talk on happiness President Uchtdorf mentioned the words of James Barrie, the author of Peter Pan: “Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.” It's true. Despite the cold and falling snow, our day today was sunny and bright with the essential gift of Christmas: love.

The Sweetest Thing

Tonight I finished the last batch of Christmas cookies. Well, technically they won't be out of the oven until morning, but my part is over. Whew!

Here's what will go on the neighborhood goodie plates this year:

Chocolate Fudge- my best yet
Vanilla Caramels- these may become a tradition, they are so good
Butter mints- yum
Rice Crispy treats- for variety
Chocolate Chunk Pecan bars- like my Thanksgiving pie, but smaller pieces
Orange Spice Peanut Butter cookies- a new favorite
Death By Chocolate cookies- with walnuts, mmmm
Forgotten Kisses- meringues (with coconut and chocolate chips) that "bake" overnight

Sound good? There are some houses for sale on my street!

Pictures to follow when I plate them up tomorrow.

In The Bleak Midwinter

The light of a mid-December afternoon is blue and dim, but there's still time for some outdoor fun. Life in Vermont is sweet.

Night Lights

The full moon was indeed very close the other night




And our house is lit up like a Christmas tree

Norman Rockwellesque

My friend Casey requested photographs of my holiday decorating, saying that she imagined something "Norman Rockwellesque". If that description means "everything is perfect", then that would be my photographer friend who currently resides in London. If it means "homey and slightly cluttered", then that's more like my existence.

Buyurun. ("Here you go" in Turkish. Some words are just too useful to let go.) The stockings are all handmade by me (yes, I know Torin's is backwards... um, he's left-handed), and the kilim is from Turkey, home of Saint Nicholas.

Happy Holidays!

Christmas: The Soundtrack

We all have them and they are never more precious than at Christmas time- I'm talking about our favorite versions of classic holiday songs.

So when I say "Frosty the Snowman", are you hearing Fiona Apple or Bing Crosby? Maybe you prefer Ella Fitzgerlad or even The Cocteau Twins. Or, for a slow-dance version, the Partridge Family. But please tell me it's not Alvin and the Chipmunks.

Let's play a little game. I'll name a Christmas song, and you tell me who recorded your definitive version. Well, okay, I'll start. But I want to hear you singing along!

Frosty the Snowman: Fiona Apple

Santa Claus is Coming to Town: Chris Isaak (with Stevie Nicks)

Good King Wenceslas: Loreena McKinnett

Go Tell It On the Mountain: Simon and Garfunkel (with James Taylor a very close second)

I Saw Three Ships: Sting, of course

Mary's Boy Child: Boney M (go look it up on itunes- the real version isn't there, but some good imitations are)

It Came Upon a Midnight Clear: Sixpence None the Richer

Do You Hear What I Hear: The Rankin Family

I Pray on Christmas: Harry Connick, Jr.

I'll be Home for Christmas: Tony Bennett (live version)

Let It Snow: Gary Grant (a former co-worker of Q's, Sinatra sound, on itunes)

Winter Wonderland: Harry Connick, Jr. (from When Harry Met Sally)

Jingle Bells: Diana Krall

O Little Town of Bethlehem: Sarah McLachlan

Away in a Manger: Emmylou Harris

Hark, the Herald Angels SIng: Jim Brickman (piano)

O Tannenbaum: The Vienna Boys Choir

O Come All Ye Faithful: Amy Grant

Silent Night: The Hooters

I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day: Jars of Clay

Deck the Halls: Aly & AJ

O Holy Night: Afterglow

Silver Bells: The Mormon Tabernacle Choir

Some Children See Him: James Taylor

Angels We Have Heard on High: Josh Groban

The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting): Mel Torme

Do They Know It's Christmas: Band Aid (really, nobody else can do it justice- it must have Boy George, George Michael, and Bono in all of their 80's naiveness.)

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer: Chris Isaak (if I have to listen to that song)


You might notice a few missing. Well, I don't have a favorite version, so let me know what your definitive version is of "Joy to the World", "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" (BNL is pretty good), "White Christmas", "The Holly and the Ivy" (I used to have a great dulcimer version, but it's on cassette tape), etc.

As for new favorites, I love "Mele Kalikimaka" and "Brightest Star" by Christ Isaak, "Someday at Christmas" by Stevie Wonder, and " Maybe This Christmas" by Ron Sexsmith, of course.

What's on your soundtrack this year- and every year?

I Dried the Summer

...to share with you in the wintertime.