Marta-the-Tree-Hugger, 2016

I don’t know who had to get up earlier this morning – Marta in Corte Madera or us in Oysterville.  The trick is to meet at PDX shortly after 10:05 which is when her plane is due in.  She takes off from San Francisco at 8:30 and, assuming she’s going to get to SFO from Marin County by the Airporter, I imagine she’ll be up and out of the house about the same time we will.  Somewhere in the 6:30 range.

At least she won’t have to worry about snow or ice on her way across the Golden Gate Bridge.  I’m not so sure about us and the Megler-Astoria crossing.  Or any other part of the journey for that matter.  Our forecast is looking pretty good, though.  Assuming, of course, that it’s right.  I’ll be worrying all the way to the airport in any case.  It’s a mom thing.

I’m excited!  It’s been a year since we’ve seen one another and a good many years since we’ve spent Christmas together.  I don’t think she’s been in Oysterville for Christmas since way before Nyel and I began living in the family house – at least twenty years!  She was a lot more agile then – weren’t we all? – and somewhere I have pictures of her balanced precariously atop a ten-foot ladder, putting the finishing touches on the upper branches of the tree.

Marta at Five, 1959

I hope she’s up for a repeat performance this visit!  She and I are going to be decorating the tree on Monday and since neither Nyel nor I do ladders anymore, (well, I don’t and Nyel shouldn’t but…) the angel on the top is all up to Marta!  Our back-up position is Charlie, but he won’t be arriving until Tuesday night.  In his usual bout of insanity, he will be driving straight through from L.A.  I don’t think he’ll be fit for ladder duty for days and days.

We are saving one ‘chore’ for the entire family to do – unpacking and arranging the wind-up toys.  And, of course, trying each of them out as we go!  I think we have close to a hundred of them now, all different.  Santa began that tradition long ago and still leaves one or two in each of our stockings every year.

Last time Marta was here, it was summer.  I know she would love it if we had a little snow during her stay this time.  But it doesn’t look as though we will, at least according to the weatherman.  Part of me says “Thank you, Lord!” and hopes the forecast is right – especially until everyone gets here and home again safely. It’s a mom thing.