I love dying Easter eggs with my kids. Now that they’re older it’s more fun, actually. It’s become a family tradition (I hope) of having fun, hanging out, being creative together.
I used to only dye my eggs one color. Never thought out of the box. My kids are out of the box thinkers and my, my, my how high and colorful their thoughts fly!
My children are my masterpiece. My children teach me in every way. My children are artist and canvas. My children open my eyes to a brave new world of possibility. My children are me loved into reality.
Mirrors are not more silent
nor the creeping dawn more secretive;
in the moonlight, you are that panther
we catch sight of from afar.
By the inexplicable workings of a divine law,
we look for you in vain;
More remote, even, than the Ganges or the setting sun,
yours is the solitude, yours the secret.
Your haunch allows the lingering
caress of my hand.
You have accepted,
since that long forgotten past,
the love of the distrustful hand.
You belong to another time.
You are lord
of a place bounded like a dream.
Christmas to me is always magical. Even when I’m feeling like a Scrooge. 🎄
Christmas somehow manages to get beneath my skin and throw goodwill and cheer in there with all the rest of forgotten memories.
Like Midnight Mass every year when I was little. My mom waking me and getting me dressed to attend the most beautiful Mass of the year. I remember thinking real angels were singing in the choir above and I loved so very much the procession outside and being able to finally see the baby Jesus lying in His creche. It was somber, beautiful, joyful and beyond words.
Those mornings waking to see that Santa had passed and even if what wasn’t on my list was under the tree, I still adored it all.
I’ve never grown out of Christmas. Even though the early mornings are NOT my thing, I still muster up the strength to wake up and get ready to act happy as my children are when they see the gifts under the tree.
This year, for the first time, my son won’t be here. He’s with his dad this Christmas. His youngest sister opted out and the judge didn’t make her go, but my son did the right thing and took the bullet for her. I hope he has fun and I miss him more than I can write or express in speaking. Christmas won’t be the same without him here. But, I still love it.
I love how people are so much nicer when shopping or just out and about. It reminds me that there is so much good-will in this world. It reminds me to be a better me.
I love all the Christmas shows on TV. How can you not??? I love them all. The old, the beautiful, the cheesy, all of them remind me to smile.
I love decorating and sitting downstairs in the evenings just enjoying the lights and the quiet. It’s soothing and spiritual and special. There is nothing like it.
I love shopping for trees. Even though I hate thinking of them chopped and lonely waiting for someone to buy them, I always wish they were still in a forest somewhere, but I still shop and look for and find and will patiently wait for the PERFECT tree. Like we did this year. My mom was in a ‘mood’, par and course for her lately, and wanted to leave because we had to wait for the poor overworked manager to help us, but I said, “NO! We’ve found the perfect tree and we’ll wait to take it home, end of story.” I apologized profusely to the manager and I said a prayer for him and his family. (Old age is never an excuse to be mean) imho 🙂
Here’s our tree and this year I decided to put only ornaments that were homemade, or significant. The special ones, no theme, no garland, just ornaments from all of the kids and me. I most love the paper and cut-out ones they made when they were so small. The ones with their pictures on them, the ones they balk at. The dough star tied with yarn. Those make me smile most.
I love that my crazy mother is giving my youngest daughter a kitten this year without asking me. I don’t mind, I adore kittens and my daughter has never really had a pet all her very own. This Christmas morning will be memorable indeed. 🙂
I love how on Christmas Eve it’s a time to just stay home and hunker in. While the rest of the world shops last minute frantically, we can do nothing but enjoy Christmas music and hot chocolate on this year’s balmy day 0f 70 degrees. (the South never fails to be unseasonably warm inappropriately)
I just love Christmas and I always will.
I hope yours is the most beautiful, peace-filled, glorious one and that you receive all the joy and happiness you need. God Bless you!
novel (n.): 1. a fictitious prose narrative of considerable length and complexity, portraying characters and usually presenting a sequential organization of action and scenes. 2. (adj.) of a new kind; different from anything seen or known before
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