It was Christmastime. All the necessary voodoo dolls were hung on the tree with care. We would summon the Dread Lord a'an-t.
Even Bucky was swept up in the Yuletide spirit!
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It was cold as always, but magically warmed up during our stay. An odd year, but one that was easy to get along with.
![](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/ph-508.604ed20cffa9.gif)
As it would melt & snow & remelt, the tree-lined valley oscillated between whites, greens & purples on a daily basis.
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There was still a bit of snow, here & there.
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I always liked to pretend I lived in
Moominvalley. I was Snufkin, of course, and tromped around in my pastoral freedom. If I encountered a neighboring house, it was surely inhabited by a fillyjonk shut up for the winter, and one must always tread quietly past a fillyjonk's home.
![](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/ph-508.604ed20cffa9.gif)
I would smoke my imaginary Snufkin pipe and wander & ponder & wonder.
![](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/ph-508.604ed20cffa9.gif)
You never can run out of magic up there.
The local wildlife tends to be insufferably shy when it comes to taking their picture, insisting their makeup is a mess and they're wearing the wrong coat entirely, so you'll have to make do with this DRAMATIC REENACTMENT
Every day was beautiful, magnified by the wonderful group of friends & family I've collected up there. One of the most soul-satisfying Christmases. (Christmasses? Christmasii?)
![](https://dz3ixmv6nok8z.cloudfront.net/static/img/ph-508.604ed20cffa9.gif)
Thanks for reminiscing with me!
Happy New Year to you!