The winds of change.

This has been one heck of a blustery day. Gusty, gusty... wind chimes i didn't even know existed are ringing out excitedly on balconies everywhere. The wind blowing through the screens on our windows makes a high-pitched howling sound, eerie to be sure. The curtains billow, the trees rustle and shake and molt their old leaves out into the air, gone forever. It's definitely starting to feel like winter, as much as it can down here in Southern California, anyway.

And we do what we can to bring it on home: i've gotta say, there's nothing like the smell of evergreens to bring you to a much happier place. When you live in an apartment in San Diego, surrounded by not much besides palm trees, succulents, and birds of paradise, a little indoor "outdoor" smell is one of the best things there is.

We did the same thing last year: went and bought (at Von's, ::cringe::) a few boughs of the fine-smelling stuff; fir, pine, cedar, spruce. Nat was remembering christmases growing up at his house in Gardena, when his mother would have candles lit and fresh greens strewn about the house. i thought it sounded like a fine and dandy idea, and it was. Our apartment smelled like a piquant wood somewhere far, far away. it was heavenly, and by that i mean, um, earthly.

The irony this year is that in about one week we will actually be traveling to a great source of never-ending woodliness: Montana.

Yep, i'm finally taking Nat up to the North. A little town named Whitefish, which is where i was born. Sadly, the hospital has been torn down by now, as well as the adorable trailer park that was right next door to it. We used to love looking for it as we approached town on Highway 93. ::sniff!:: Ah, memories of times gone by.

Anyway! So, yeeeaaahhh. (in Eddie Izzard voice.) Where was i? Oh yes- the forest. Yes, it will be all around us. My sister is cutting down a tree for us to decorate, and it should be, well, interesting to have the whole family in one place. Especially considering the mire of baggage and bad blood and dysfunction that threatens to suck us down into it if we're not careful. Let's just say that more than one of us (not me) has a rather short fuse. Poor Nat; if he makes it out alive he'll have quite a story to tell, of Christmas '08. Snowed in and snowed under.

But at least there are trees up there, damnit, and i mean great big, sweet-smelling baddies. i can't really wait, i guess. Does that mean i'm excited? To see my over-worked and over-stressed big sister? My ailing father, whose (doubtful) progress of recovering from his (bad) stroke two years ago will surely be measured when i walk through the door? The fur that will fly when my brother and sister start to go at it, opening up old wounds?

Yes, it will be just like old times... but one has to be positive, right? So i will look forward to the good things i remember: making coffee in the morning in the kitchen upstairs, watching the tiny ice particles fall from the snowy tree branches, like a shower of glitter in the morning sunlight. Seeing deer nibble away at the sparse bushes in the backyard. Grabbing the binoculars and watching the intrepid skiers schuss their way down Big Mountain, only 3 miles away. Taking a walk up our little road and seeing wild flocks of pheasant, grouse. The way the milk just tastes better up there.

Yeah, here's hopin' for the best.

In other news: saw a "T" today, in the tiny, tattered remnant of a plastic shopping bag in the hallway downstairs. Also, i think i finally succeeded in getting a cold to go away simply through the force of sheer will, which is very exciting. ::knock on wood:: And, well, listen to Chopin. i dare you.