Christmas Eve

Here it is, Christmas Eve, and all is - well, warmish to be truthful.  Although it's 17F in Santa Fe (same altitude, just further north) and 21F in Michael's hometown in the U.P. of Michigan (even further north), it's about 50F here and heading up to around 80 later today. Fine weather for a walk into Centro to enjoy a cuppa at Starbucks!

Nevertheless, it still feels like Christmas, even if the sun is shining and the gardener will soon be here to tend to the landscape.  There's just something in the air, ya know?  Reading FB, there are lots of friends in places that are a lot colder talking about snow and ice.  I feel sorry for them and envious, too.  When we lived in Southern California it was always great to visit my sister's and brother-in-law's cabin in Idylwild when it snowed - even with those 39 steps down to the house from the parking space!

Here's a little adaptation of 'Twas The Night Before Christmas, a la Mexicana - La Noche Buena to help with that Christmas spirit:

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the casa,
Not a creature was stirring; ¡Caramba! ¿Que pasa?
The ninos were all tucked firmly into their camas,
Some in vestidos and some in pijamas,

While mama worked late in her little cocina,

And El Viejo was down at the corner cantina.

The stockings were hanging con mucho cuidado
In hopes that St. Nicolas would feel obligado,
To bring all of the children, both buenos and malos,
A nice bunch of dulces and other regalos. 

Then outside in the yard there occurred such a grito,
That I jumped to my feet like a frightened cabrito.
I ran to my window and looked out afuera,
And who in the world do you think it era?

St. Nick in a sleigh wearing a big red sombrero
Came dashing along like a crazy bombero!
And pulling his sleigh instead of venados,
Were eight little burros, approaching volados.

I watched as they came, and this quaint little hombre
Was shouting and whistling and calling by nombre:

"Ay, Pancho! Ay, Pepe! Ay, Cuca! Ay, Beto!
Ay, Chato! Ay, Chopo! Ay, Maruco y Nieto!"

Then standing up tall with his hand on his pecho,
He flew to the top of our very own techo.

With his round little belly shaking like a bowl of jalea,
He struggled to squeeze down our old chimenea.

Then, huffing and puffing, at last in our sala,
He stood with soot smeared all over his red suit de gala.
He filled all the stockings, each with a lovely regalo,
Then he turned and, in a flash, was gone like the viento.

And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight (and this is verdad)
Merry Christmas to all! Feliz Navidad!

Graham Felipe