Friday, December 7, 2012

The Season of Love

Christmas is truly my favorite season. I love the lights, especially this time of year. I love the smells. I love the best excuse ever to overeat—Christmas cookies. I love the cards, even the ones with braggy Christmas letters inside. I love the brown boxes waiting on my porch. I love the silly anticipation of the Secret Snowflake party at work. I love the decorating. And I also love the reason for the season: the miracle of the virgin birth. 

Even though we rarely drink it, I love buying eggnog at the store. Of course, some weeks later I discover it behind a carton of juice and have to throw it out.

I love putting bows on things and lighting all the candles.

I love the frasier fir spray that really does smell like a fresh Christmas tree.

I love quirky decorations.

I love poinsettias.

I love red berries and greenery.

I love stockings.

I love glass Christmas balls.

I love glass candlesticks and my S-A-N-T-A letters.

I love Christmas movies. I also love the fact that I captured Will Ferrell's face like this.

I even love this wonky little tree.  He is a wonky thing, isn't he?

I love, love, love my dining room!

I love the view from our dining room window. I especially love the fact that my husband put the lights on this tree.

I love fresh greenery and flowers. I also love the touches of red in my dining room.

I love the fact that I bought this ribbon years and years ago and that I STILL use it every year.

I love Christmas cupcakes, another good reason for overeating.

I love putting sweets in the advent calendar. There is something highly rebellious in knowing that for the entire month of December my children eat candy before breakfast.

I love the bow around this duck's neck because I swore I would never be the sort of woman who tied a bow around a duck's neck, and now I am that woman.

I love this glittery angel.

I love that I asked my dogs to give me their I Love Christmas! faces and this is what I got.

And I love my blogger friends. Thanks for stopping by!

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Thursday, November 22, 2012

Thanksgiving Voices

Today is the day to give thanks for all my many blessings, yet this morning while making a last-minute run to Wegman's, I found myself crying. I don't cry much. I get teary-eyed sometimes, but I don't often do what Oprah refers to as "the big-ole-ugly cry." Yet, here I was on a beautiful Thanksgiving morning weeping most unexpectedly. 


I missed those Thanksgivings from long ago, the ones where people, grandmothers specifically, cooked for me

I missed the Thanksgivings when my girls were little, and I was just learning to plan this sort of big-effort meal. 

I missed my mother on the phone. First, her turkey imitation, and then, "Happy Thanksgiving!" in a cheerful voice I can still hear if I close my eyes and really listen.

By the time I hit the not-at-all-crowded parking lot, I was fine. There were bright orange tulips in barrels just begging me to buy them.

And these cute little acorn guys were on sale, and they wanted to come home with me, too.

Last night I made an apple pie, crust and all, but my youngest daughter won't touch pie. Plus, I thought these would look pretty in my glass dish.

Back home my spirits began to lift with each creative effort. I found myself thinking about what these Thanksgivings will mean to my own girls one day when I am no longer able to prepare them, and I could hear their voices some years hence. "Remember when Mommy used to…"  "And when she would…" "The way the house was always…"

I had been wanting some new place mats and napkins for a while, so yesterday I stopped at one of my favorite home stores (not Home Goods for once!) and purchased these. I'm getting a little tired of the fall colors, and I wanted something I could use year-round. So pretty! They'll transition nicely into the holidays with different plates and red candles.

Wegman's didn't have any napkin rings, but some green ribbon and plastic acorns did the trick. The whole time I thought about Granny, my father's mother, and how she was always cooking and decorating and moving furniture around. She was right there with me, and I could hear her voice, too.

 Grandmother, my mother's mother, slipped into the room. Grandmother was a sweet, quiet woman, and her fried chicken would break your heart it was so tender on the inside and crispy on the out. Talk about Southern living! Oh, and pinto beans and cornbread and coconut cake that she kept under wraps in the spare bedroom until Christmas night when it made its grand appearance. Grandmother wasn't much for decorating, but her sweet tea was like a drug. One glass was never enough!

Today my home looks festive and pretty, and I am thankful for this morning's cry. It reminds me to treasure what I have. It helps me remember that nothing lasts for ever, and because of this, life is all the more precious.


Today is a day to give thanks…

for those I have loved and lost,

for those I'm lucky enough to still have around,

and for those I haven't even met yet.

Happy Thanksgiving, sweet blogger friends!
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