Shaking it off: Clark W. Griswold is Back!

Anyone who's been in contact with me lately knows in no uncertain terms that I have been sick *moan, whine, pout*  The thing is, I'm usually the one gloating over the rest of my sick family as they suffer, taking deep satisfaction in the knowledge that I have a superior immune system.  But immune systems don't pay much attention to migraines or food poisoning...both of which I had the pleasure of experiencing last week.  I haven't cast up my accounts with such frequency in nearly a decade.  So, what I'm trying to get around to is that between the mound of laundry I found waiting for me and Bailey's most recent decision to monopolize my person every waking moment of the day (or night), my Christmas spirit has taken something of a hit.  (Let's not even get started with the conflicting emotions I have over getting food poisoning from something at a Christmas market...the humanity!!)

So, after four days trying to regain my health, abstaining from sugar, caffeine, and alcohol and shirking chores around the house to give The Bear the attention she is so desperately craving, I cried: Enough!!  Even though the cold weather sends Bailey into screaming fits as soon as she steps out the door, we were off.  I was done trying to scrape together Christmas cheer with what was around our house when VIENNA was just one screaming toddler away.  So, I bundled Bailey up like Ralphie's little brother and we headed downtown to see Christmas.

Photo credit

I haven't done a very good job of explaining yet, but Christmas in Vienna isn't just about the nineteen Christmas markets. (Although the smell of punsch wafting through the city does add a festive feeling to the season.) For starters, it's cold. Everyone and their old bitty aunt is wearing fur--I never fully realized that this was socially acceptable, much less a status symbol until now.  As a kid, watching the oh-so-fabulous movie American Dreamer, I used to laugh at the character Rebecca Ryan until I realized THESE PEOPLE ALL LOOK LIKE THAT!!! (minus the gun...as far as I know)  So.  Fur.  Very much part of a Viennese Christmas.  Just try not to laugh--they could be armed.  

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Also, lights.  Lights everywhere; dripping chandeliers down Graben, curtains of twinkle lights above Kohlmarkt, Hooped lanterns at Am Hof...and even though they're more than lights, the enormous red balls down Rotenturmstrasse just make my heart go pitter-patter.

Bailey's favorite tree

And as if the lights and the fur, the punsch and the pony rides weren't enough to get you in the festive spirit, now the trees are FINALLY here.  I've been dying a little inside, not having our own Christmas tree yet.  Like everything else, the Viennese are very particular about their Christmas trees.  They take great pride that two-thirds of the population purchase fresh trees from over a hundred stands throughout the city.  All of these stands are supposed to carry trees exclusively from Lower Austria; there have been articles in the paper for weeks, warning people to look for tags and signs indicating a quality tree...God forbid something from Switzerland should slip into a good Viennese home.

Just know that while you all have been pulling your pre-lit trees out of the closet or taking fun road trips to a tree farm in The States, I've been sitting around looking at your happy Christmas pictures, grumbling under my breath like the Grinch.  And I'll still be grumbling until the tree stand in our neighborhood opens.  I send John daily emails with updates about where the closest open tree lots are and which co-worker he should unwittingly trap into helping him carry a tree all the way to our apartment.  (While I wait comfortably on my sofa with a kid who is not screaming from the cold.)

I hear irrationality is a side effect of sugar withdrawals.  

Randy Parker and her BFF

Where were we, now?  Oh, right.  Downtown Vienna--where there are now BLOCKS full of Christmas trees for sale.  These are not the short skimpy trees I've been seeing around neighborhoods--these are the trees that make you drool and wonder if you should advise your husband to instead enlist three unwitting coworkers to bring the suckers home. Right. Now.  As I was wandering along, eyes ogling the rows of lush green branches...and, let's be honest, trying to avoid drooling on my coat, I realized: I'm back!!  This is exactly how Clark W. Griswold would feel walking down Graben! I don't care if these things wouldn't fit in our living room (this is saying something) I want to wrestle one home and spend the next three days removing tree sap from my person.  I would've clicked my heels and high-fived a fur-coated bitty if I weren't worried I'd find myself at gunpoint.  Instead, Bailey and I stopped to give her favorite bear some loving and then popped into the Demel for some Cocoa.  If that doesn't sound like Christmas Cheer, I don't know what does.  Mostly, I'm just happy to be (yet again...) shaking off the Grinchy attitude.  Bring on the Christmas Cheer!  And the Christmas tree, for that matter.

...I'm still waiting on my couch.