An Old Fashioned Fireplace.....

That is a line from a Frank Sinatra Christmas tune.....he "would trade the whole Manhattan skyline for an old fashioned Christmas (with an old fashioned fireplace) back home (who amongst us wouldn't?)."  Having a fire in the fireplace is a special event in my house.  As you can tell by the picture above, all my girls love sitting in front of the fire. When I was a kid, I did the same thing.  One of my favorite memories was a fire in the fireplace, and Christmas music playing the background.  We would have fires in the fireplace any time the weather was anywhere between 45- 15 degrees.  My parents used to say anything under 15 and it was too cold for a fire.  Never made sense to me but like most things I trusted them.  It was always more than a fire, it was part TV, part dinner table, part conversation piece, all family.  I couldn't begin to count the times we would just sit around and watch it, never talking too much.  I love the warmth, the sound, the smell.  When I have a fire, I think about growing up- it usually meant there was something good cooking in the kitchen and perhaps a guest was coming over.  Normally that guest was Fr. Tom.  When he moved to Florida for a few years we bought a VCR tape of a fire in the fireplace and gave it to him to watch down there because he loved them as well.  Of course we always had a great fire around Christmas and it used to be we couldn't listen to Xmas music until Thanksgiving night.  That is one tradition that has morphed in my house.  We have the house decorated for Christmas before Thanksgiving, and Christmas music is played around Halloween.  I always loved Christmas as a kid (who didn't?) and Mom and Dad always thought it was because I LOVED getting gifts.  Honestly, I did (again who doesn't?)  But truthfully, It was so much more than that. I loved the decorations, the traditions, the candy, the food, the anticipation.   I would wake up with the horses on Christmas day (Patrick would have to strap me into bed) and I used to cry on Christmas night because it was over. To this day very mucha  kid around Christmas.  My wife, to her credit, makes the house look amazing during the Holidays.  She has taken many of the things I loved about Christmas from my Mom and adapted them to our family.  I think that is where my love for this holiday comes from, my Mom.  She, to this day, believes.

Having kids who understand this holiday makes it so much better.  We got the girls a pretty good tree for their room. I have never heard Baylor Grace really say "please" before.  All she said while we were decorating the tree was "PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE" because she wanted another ornament to hang on the tree.  There really is something magical about this time of year and it is all seen in a child's eye.

Anyway, my thousands  eight loyal readers might have wondered what is behind throwing things in the fireplace?  Well it is actually a good story.  Brooke and I take to girls to Gatlinburg every December for a Christmas parade.  It is a tradition we started out of the blue and is one of our favorites.  This year we couldn't go because I have a work trip.  Well last year we rented a huge Chalet and both my parents and my in laws came.  Anytime my fathers get together it is always a good time.  Neither my Dad or my Father in Law (also Dad) like people.  They love each other- another blog another day perhaps.  I am lucky in that sense that my families get a long so well.  Anyway, my Dad wears things until they get holes in them, literally. Sometimes my Mom can patch them up, sometimes they just look like swiss cheese.  Well last year my dad brought a pair of PJ pants and boxers that looked awful but they were comfortable to him.  Much like my pillowcase in my previous blog.  Well after a little, and by little I mean bathtub, of Crown Royal (maybe even a braunschweiger)- we convinced Dad to get rid of those nasty clothes.  We expected him to discard of them via trash.  After going back into his bedroom to change, he comes back out and proceeds to throw his clothes into the roaring fire.  In very much an Irish fashion, we stood in silence, toasted the burning clothes, and watched them disappear.  When they were gone, we laughed and haven't stopped since thinking about that time.  For a moment, everything else fell away, and we all just laughed together.

So that's where the throwing my pillowcase into the fire came from.  If you re wondering, I actually didn't go throw with it.  Perhaps by God's work, I just couldn't bring myself to it.  This works out perfectly because Dad has something he wants to throw in there at Thanksgiving.  We can burn our things together.  Maybe, we are starting a new tradition.  So, if you are coming to my house for Thanksgiving and you have something old, something you hate, something you love- and you have been looking for a proper Viking send off.....we have your outlet. 

Just nothing plastic, we don't want to harm the environment.