Home for the holidays

Last night, Winter Solstice, turned out to be one of the most pleasant we ever remember having during the Christmas season. Although the Better Half's company was a major contributor to the evening, that was like the sauce but not the roast. We spent the evening at three places in the St. Croix Valley, one that was new to us although we had driven past several times when it was closed.

First stop was the WaterShed Cafe in Osceola for dinner. We've become sort of regulars there, alternating Fridays with the St. Croix Chocolates' wood fired pizza. The Christmas lights in small towns in the Valley are one of the season's fundamental pleasures.

Coffee Talk in Taylors Falls

Photo by J. Harrington

When we left Osceola, we were headed for Coffee Talk in Taylors Falls for a Solstice celebration. We had time to spare before the celebration would start, so we took a turn through St. Croix Falls, just across the river from Taylors Falls. The ghost of Christmas present and future smiled on us because, as we drove past a shop [Luhrs/Bjornson Artworks] near the edge of the city, we noticed it was open. Other times we've gone by, the window sign said "Open by Appointment." We wanted to explore the pottery and paintings, but not enough to schedule an appointment. Last night was our chance. The folks running the shop are pleasant, knowledgable and talented. We spent more than half an hour looking about and talking. It turns out the potter throws, among other thing, sourdough starter pots and cloches for baking artisan bread. The cloches are slightly larger than the one we've been baking in, and shaped more like a dutch oven. Maybe we'll need one of those next year for our birthday and we'll stop back at the shop next Christmas before we've basically finished our shopping.

a historic Taylors Falls home decorated for the holidays

Photo by J. Harrington

We crossed the river and headed for Coffee Talk to see their Solstice bonfire, drink some cappuccino and to listen to the Houdeks. Their musical talents, the atmosphere, and the songs they played created a feeling of community and took us back decades to when we were frequently an audience member in several of the coffee houses in Cambridge, MA, in the days when Joan Baez and others in the folk revival were getting started. All of a sudden, the St. Croix Valley felt a lot more like "home." It's nice to be home for the holidays.

Winter Nights

Robert Bly

How easily the winter nights urge us on 

To sink deep into sleep, and once down

Roll over and over on the floor of night. 

Forty-five dreamers crowd into our bed

At night; forty of them don’t belong there. 

The other five are repeating dreamers. 

How easily the winter nights urge us on 

To abandon the bedposts, and go to sea

Looking for the island Robinson Crusoe never found. 

How many days we stand on the deck

Surrounded by drunken seamen and old ropes, 

Trying to recall the port we are sailing to. 

It is so easy to give thanks to the night. 

We give thanks to our bones for stretching out, 

And feel gratitude to our little toes. 

You know what it’s like! At midnight

The bar closes, the tables are stacked together, 

And all the drunkards are thrown out.

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