Merry Christmas, everyone!
Judy thought she had known the number three barn by heart. She’d spent years at a kit running across its dirt floors or scrambling through its cavernous lofts. It was where the Hopps family operation stored consumables and spare hardware, to keep its fleet of farm equipment running all year round. It was where kits of all ages staged campouts and adventures. Judy remembered the south corner well, where she’d nearly broken her ankle jumping into hay bales one carefree summer.
And in the winters! In the winters, during the week-long celebration that was Christmas with such an enormous family, they cleared a space in the soaring center of the barn to erect one of several Christmas trees. This one had always been Judy’s favorite. It was the only one with enough space around its base to fit most of her siblings at once, and it was by far the tallest. She made sure to help decorate it every year she could. She had vivid memories of reckless clambers into the high branches with Sharon and their squirrel friend Missy, hunting by the shining Christmas lights for the best nooks and crannies close to the trunk to hang their ornaments.
Now, sometime in the last year, even more had changed. The tree was taller than ever, draped now in as much scaffolding and precarious-looking ladders as it was tinsel and twinkling lights. All of the provisions and gear that usually took up the floor had been shoved way to the back of the barn and covered with tarps, to make room for a couple of new semipermanent wood stoves near the entrance. Judy approved. It was as busy a gathering space as usual, but now there was a place to warm up and get a hot drink when you needed a break from tree trimming.
Oh, and there was a fox this time. That was probably the nicest part.
A fresh flurry of snowflakes chased Nick through the gap in the double doors. He carried a looping jumble of green electrical cords that rattled in his paws, and when he pulled the scarf away from his muzzle Judy saw he wore a satisfied smile.
“All fixed,” he confirmed, and waved one end of the string of Christmas lights. “Joe put a new bulb in.”
“We won’t make you run the next one,” Judy promised. Her fox was freezing. She dusted flakes from the shell of his jacket, and from the tailfur of his natural winter coat, too. “It must be getting bad out there.”
“Nothing I can’t survive,” he assured her, and smiled at her attentions. “Joe’s workshop is heated. It’s just the between parts.”
“Yeah, but there’s going to be a next one.” Judy craned up at the tree above them, which swarmed with industrious rabbits and a few family friends besides. It was about two-thirds lit with twinkling lights. Only the top remained. “And another, and another. I think it’s been about every other string that needs new bulbs.”
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