Eight Years

Happy Anniversary to my wonderful husband!

Happy Christmas

Here's wishing you a very Merry Christmas and a peaceful new year, from our home to yours.

Oh, and if it strikes your fancy, adding a little eggnog, egg, and vanilla to cinnamon bread makes the most delicious French toast ever. So have a delicious holiday, too!

Twilight Zone: 12 Days of Christmas

While I was feeling particularly whiny on facebook today, my friend Deborah commented that recent events seem like a "Twilight Zone version of the 12 days of Christmas." Taking her inspiration, I've decided to catalogue some of the great December happenings for me and mine. Then, I'll ask that the solstice brings us something better in the near future.

For the record, I normally don't like the "Twelve Days of Christmas." It's too long and takes up valuable time when good songs could be heard. So let's just start at #12.

In the last 12 days of winter, December gave to me:

• Never enough chocolate
• Phoebe killed a robin
• Near-fainting at the dentist
• Cat barf on the carpet
• Mom’s got a flu bug
• Kevin’s got a cold
• Bats in my office
• Beta jumped the bowl
• Dad’s chemo on Christmas
• My first speeding ticket
• A backhoe-torn up yard
• And a mainline sewer redo!

Happy Holidays!

Gawking 2009

Some of you might remember last year's post, where I described our tradition of "gawking" at the Christmas lights and lawn ornaments in nearby neighborhoods.

The last couple of weekends, Kevin and I have been using our date nights to hit up Starbucks for some signature hot chocolates (with added caramel) and see where we can find the best--and the worst--lights.

We're surprised to find out that none of the homes featured in last year's post put up their crazy, weird decor this year (maybe they caught wind of my blog?).

But never fear, there's nothing like a 10-foot lighted giraffe with a Rudolph nose that says Merry Christmas.

Christmas Cards

Nothing like coming home from a crazy day of work to forget about it all: forget about the stress, forget the students who come grasping for points at the end of the semester, forget the huge hole they dug to replace our sewer line, forget the fact I won't be getting Christmas cards out this year, forget that I haven't finished my shopping.

And instead I turn on the music, pour myself a glass of light eggnog, cuddle up with the kitty next to the tree, and read the Christmas cards from friends who were so good to think of us. It really makes my evening.

Snow Geese

Lately, I've had less time to do blogging. The grading is piling up, and I have several key deliverables going out to clients this week. Add in trying to take care of myself and go to my birthing classes and do my baby-prep reading, and well, you get the idea.

So, amidst all the holiday craziness, I want to take a moment and pause on the present but transient moments, passing and beautiful. I hope you enjoy this poem as much as I do.

Snow Geese
by Mary Oliver

Oh, to love what is lovely, and will not last!
What a task
to ask
of anything, or anyone,
yet it is ours,
and not by the century or the year, but by the hours.
One fall day I heard
above me, and above the sting of the wind, a sound
I did not know, and my look shot upward; it was
a flock of snow geese, winging it
faster than the ones we usually see,
and, being the color of snow, catching the sun
so they were, in part at least, golden. I
held my breath
as we do
sometimes
to stop time
when something wonderful
has touched us
as with a match,
which is lit, and bright,
but does not hurt
in the common way,
but delightfully,
as if delight
were the most serious thing
you ever felt.

The geese
flew on,
I have never seen them again.
Maybe I will, someday, somewhere.
Maybe I won't.
It doesn't matter.
What matters
is that, when I saw them,
I saw them
as through the veil, secretly, joyfully, clearly.