Yule Ramblings #17: The British One

Awwwe. Little British teddies! Little Grey Paddingtons! From the throws of mighty England these bears hail. They stem from the royal isle of fish and chips, double-decker busese, Prince come-hither Harry, crumpets, mostly irrelevant telephone booths, Oasis, (the non-NFL-football-playing) Big Ben, and as my son says - "Buckethead Castle."

My bright and cheerful Auntie Jean lives here. We revel in her company... she's damn near magical. Her Stewartby home is one of my favorite anywhere, mostly because of her brilliant and glorious garden... her private gate likens itself to the Narnia Wardrobe, admitting access only to the most fortunate of guests, who are stunned to have stumbled upon Monet's Le Jardin at Giverny. I imagine her flowers have an easy time growing since their caretaker is a natural ray of sunshine herself. :)

When Colby and I last visited, it was 2011, and just a few short months before we would tie the knot. My Auntie Jean gifted me a pair of long-haired debonair bears for good luck.

Little did Auntie Jean know, the bear, as previously mentioned in another post, is one of Colby's spirt animals. The bear, in short, is a symbol courage and leadership. We know we have to drink that bear medicine when times are tough, because the bear in us has no choice but to step up.

And to be clear, the bear is an independent animal, rarely living in packs. I quite support the association here... because Colby and I are still very much our own person. We were simply lucky enough to find a partner that we could run freely beside. We have found that we can keep better pace, essentially covering more territory alongside one another. Originally, the upper bear (in the picture above) had a white netted bridal veil, which represents an honest and untouched maiden, also, I'm told it helps shield the bride from evil spirits. I doubt it was a random accidental happening that the veil fell off of this little bear at some unidentifiable juncture early in our ownership of it... Coincidentally, I opted to walk down the aisle veil-less at my very own wedding: partly because the wind was whipping away in the Rocky Mountains that day, and partly because I wanted Colby to fully see what he was getting himself into. No surprises here. And as for those evil sprits? I'm not afraid at all. Well, should they exert the effort to track me down, I'm the type that will likely say, "Tell me your story, brother... Let's figure you out. Everybody can gear up to do a little bit of good, don't cha think?" My eyes to fall to the patches and exaggerated stitching on the bears, which tells me they've been through their share of trials and tribulations. But perhaps they are better, stronger people for it. Gray (or the English "grey") reminds us of tradition. Bright orange speaks to youthfulness and adventure. And those adorable sky blue noses are the color of positivity... a gentle reminder that if we strain ourselves to focus on short-range positivity for too long, we'll wear ourselves out and go cross-eyed. The groom has a buttery vest, the color of hope and happiness. A pair, in this case, means balance. Yin and Yang. Sun and moon. Mac and cheese.

I bet they only have [beady] eyes for each other.

Now, this darling duo have claimed a fairly important spot on our Christmas tree. Isn't it interesting how you can look at someone's tree and know... just know... which ornaments they value the most? (You may even think to yourself, "Wow, I wouldn't have thought to put that one there.") Year after year, The Bear Pair find themselves front and center, claiming a spot close to the top of tree, looking down on me from their 6-foot-high luxury spot. They seem to beckon me onward, "Come on, step up, Mama. You can reach a little higher. Keep up with your 6'3 Papa Bear."