At Christmas time (late October to mid-January in her mind) my wife drives me crazy.

She just bought a nativity scene.  There was a choice of sizes so of course she got the larger. And it  is huge, taller than Esther and at least six feet wide, with the figures of the stable scene all fastened into one frame. So big that after it was delivered she asked me to help set it up and move it to where she wanted it. Seeing it, my heart sank and my vertebrae  sent me a warning. I first considered phoning a construction company and asking them to send a portable crane over. Too expensive, but somehow we did accomplish the move without much damage to the joints (ours, not the nativity scene) or muscles. It now stands in all its glory at the outer side of our deck (our condo is on the ground floor), lit by a small floodlight.

Esther’s multitude of Christmas decorations, inside and out, the hours she spends on them, and my excuses for avoiding the work on them I’ve often mentioned on these pages. I won’t bore you by repeating those complaints if you just promise to feel sorry for me again.

And the gift buying has hit a new level. She has always managed to give the recipients (sons, daughters, grandkids, great grandkids, a number of other relatives and friends, over 40 people in all) a gift especially appropriate to each person’s needs and personalities. But this year it doesn’t end there.

She has for the past several months begun and supervised “Keegan’s Kloset”  (named after two deceased grandsons). It works by collecting donated items (clothing, bedding, kitchen utensils, toys, candies and more). Using storage space and volunteers in her church, these things are packed into gift baskets and delivered to needy families with children.

Esther spends hours driving around the city--and sometimes beyond--collecting donated items and delivering baskets. This goes on year round, but the number of donations and of the recommended families expand as Christmas draws near. My only contribution has been going along on some of the journeys to help load and unload the items as they’re picked up and stored.

Now my approach to the yuletide season is somewhat more laid back. Before Esther came into my life, back in the years of my widowhood, my decorations were extremely limited and my gift buying consisted of a cheque inside the card for each recipient. A quick and efficient method, I thought. I was rather proud of it. Esther  though, thought it was--well…shameful, impersonal, pitiful, and quickly took over the task. I tried choosing and buying gifts for a while but soon proved to be  totally unqualified for the job.  (Or so I was told by wife and daughters in law.) What a relief.

So now my quiet time for most of the fall and well into the winter has vanished. Vanished and buried under gigantic nativity scenes, endless strings of lights, miniature illuminated villages, our living room--most rooms--burdened with boxes upon boxes, bags upon bags, baskets upon baskets of collected donor materials. And endless street cruises. And a whirlwind in the house as Esther works frantically around me on her many yuletide tasks. The woman is indeed driving me crazy.

But here’s the strange part: The things she does that drive me crazy happen to be among the highest reasons that I love her.

OK now, don’t start going “Awwwwww”, I mean it. But don’t get the impression she’s a faultless angel either  I may explain that to you some time, but not right now. Right now she’s driving me crazy.

Merry Christmas to all our readers. May the spirit of the season stay with you all year.  

To comment on columns contact Esther or me at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. or 306 384 8657 or 110 - 201 Cree Place Saskatoon,  S7K 7Z3