Oct.Nov.Dec.

 MY THREE FAVORITE MONTHS

Not just in 2020 but every year.

OCTOBER

 

October is cooler. I no longer hibernate from the heat feeling lousy on super hot days. If I'm in Geneva, the leaves change color but not as spectacularly as in my native New England.

We can have a fire. Although I'll miss the long days: they are replaced by cozy nights in PJs, books, and movies on TV and cuddling with my husband and dog.

And best of all is the changing of the clocks. I wait until five in the afternoon on Sunday before changing. Suddenly it's four. Voilà! A gift! My extra hour of life.

As a kid I was never allowed to go trick or treating, but my grandmother made special cookies and we put them in special napkins. Precious memories with a wonderful, imaginative lady.

That was before people worried about razors in apples. Handing them out to the kids in costume was fun and trying to guess who they were. Of course, we deliberately guessed wrong the first couple of times. We knew who they were by the parents hovering under the pines near the stairs.

When I first lived in Europe Halloween was unknown. Today, our French village is awash in pumpkins, gourds, witches, and skulls as the truck puts up the Christmas lights that won't go on until 15 December. One company services the entire area so early decoration is the only way to get everything up.

NOVEMBER

The energy found in the cooler weather has paid off and I'm well into my writing projects.

Depending on where I am, the leaves are still beautiful even if the reds are scarce.

If Thanksgiving isn't a holiday in Europe each year there is some celebration. One year my assistant's mother made me an apple pie because she knew it was the only time I felt really homesick.

Every Thanksgiving I've found someplace to celebrate. Geneva restaurants have been known to do special dinners but more recently people have filled the gap. For a time my housemate and I would do it, buying the turkey already cooked. 

I've done the meal in France for expats or those who enjoyed Thanksgiving when they lived in the States. The butcher has asked me if I wanted a turkey this year, and I tell him, "Merci but we'll celebrate in Switzerland."

And I have two special friends who some years do a big feast. This is year three with one and I'm looking forward to it. 

I can't go to my high school football game Reading vs. Stoneham or send my daughter to the Boston Latin vs. Boston English game. The Boston Globe will have the scores on line.

DECEMBER

Our French village has gone from almost no decorations to becoming a fairly land. In Switzerland decorated trees abound outdoors. Christmas markets can be anything from a few chalets to hundreds. I've loved the Christmas markets in Strasbourg, Augsburg, Stuttgart, Geneva and Montreux, when Père Noël will fly high above the lake from shore to shore.

My plan last year to have an eternal Christmas tree was ended when the summer canicule killed it. I will try again this year. Maybe we can take the tree to Geneva where we can nurture it in the summer months.

Getting reacquainted with the ornaments my daughter and I painted when she was three, along with those given to us over the years, is a joy. She will be with me this year making Christmas even more special, although Rick and I have developed our own traditions. We now follow the Iceland gift giving of a book on Christmas Eve than go to bed and read it.

As for a tree, it must be real and brought in and decorated on the day of the winter solstice. If I'm where a real tree isn't part of someone's Christmas, I find an evergreen branch no matter how small to mark the day. 

We have the stockings my daughter made for each of us to open Christmas morning.

When we lived in Boston The Christmas Revels were a must--if we could get tickets. Now we can stream it. Maybe it is not quite the same as joining all the others as they wend their way around Sanders Hall to Lord of the Dance, but watching it from Europe creates new memories.

I hope for snow. I still haven't poured hot maple syrup on snow for Rick to make a candy. Maybe this year. 

Especially in Geneva, we often have to drive up the mountains a bit to find the snow, making the white blanket all the more precious when it lands on the city. I especially love the crunch of snow when I walk.

December is for soups and slow pot meals. Now we are allegedly retired it isn't coming in from work to a house with good cooking smells but enjoying them all day while we pound away on our laptops.

Note: D-L Nelson is a Swiss-Canadian writer who grew up in New England. Visit her website www.dlnelsonwriter.com