Never before has the college finals rush been so rush-y-ish! Whether you are a student, a parent, a member of the Starship Class, or an overworked-working person (or maybe all of the above), I'd bet my third-best copy of To Kill a Mockingbird that your need for Christmas break has finally overtaken you. I'm all set to spend an entire day in my pajamas reading.
Also, we are extremely pleased to announce that this writer's NaNoWriMo experience was a good and successful one. I was pushed as a writer. I slept little. I sometimes caught myself writing nonsense.
Nevertheless, she persisted.
When I reached December, I had expected myself to be all set to take a nice long break from writing. Good riddance, adios, see you later, that kind of thing. To my delight, this is not the case. My writing brain, it would appear, refuses to be exhausted, even after 50,000 words. I take this as a good sign, indeed, indeed, indeed.
And now, somehow, it's Christmas!
We take Christmas very seriously at our house. Allow me to take you on a tutorial: First, we have Tree No. One:
This is not the first Family Christmas Tree, but it stands alone for the sole reason of being the only Christmas tree in our home without tinsel. You will witness this momentarily.
Here is where my three sisters and I can sing Christmas carols around the piano (as well as the organ, which is not pictured). We can act inordinately like the March sisters from Louisa May Alcott's book, Little Women when we want to. Obviously I am Jo. Unashamedly.
Here is tree No. Two! This is the tree that started the whole having-more-than-one-tree-at-a-time tradition. We dragged it across the street from our neighbors rummage sale. I liken it to what I would imagine Pauline, Petrova and Posy Fossil would have loved to sit around in Noel Streatfeild's book, Ballet Shoes.
We squeezed it into the sun-room, and there is glistens and glows every night.
Next is tree No. Three: Grandma's Tree.
When we were small(er) we called it the Fat Tree, because that it was. Is. It looked more fatter when I was smaller.
More fat, you mean.
Yeah, thank you, Johnny. Nowadays, I don't call it that, I call it Grandma's Tree, because that's exactly what it is. My Grandma isn't actually alive anymore, and her tree ended up living at our house. As you can see, it has a bit of a "blue and silver" theme going on, which I think she would like. It reminds me a bit of the winter wonderland that the Pevensie's discovered upon exploring Narnia in C. S. Lewis' book, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. This is the tree to go to when you miss your Grandma. Some Christmas Elvis music doesn't hurt, either.
Then (yes, there's more!), if we make our way down the hall and come to the front door, we can locate the Music Tree. It's called the Music Tree because of its music note decorations, and because, if you listen, it is almost always humming some sort of Christmas-y tune.
This was originally the tree that was supposed to replace our original tree. Obviously, that didn't work. There's just no possibility of replacing the original Family Tree, no matter how lovely this one is.
And below is the splendid Christmas Tree that has overseen over sixteen Christmases. It moved when we moved, and when my Mom started the tradition of tinsel, this faithful tree took on the challenge heroically. It's a tree worthy to be displayed in Hogwarts, in my opinion.
I don't know what normal people do on Christmas break. I personally spend my time very close to a tree whilst reading and writing. And painting stars on the bathroom ceiling.
Here's what I found at a Salvation Army: Markus Zusak's The Book Thief. It's been a while since I've read an unread book that one could really sink one's teeth into. I'm looking forward to this immensely.
While standing in line to make my purchase (four borrowed quarters in hand), an unexpected burst of Christmas light was shed when the lady behind me paid for me with a smile and a "Merry Christmas."
I was moved.
There's practically nothing more delightful than receiving an unexpected book from a stranger. Honestly.
Happy Christmas, Johnny!
Hyvää Joulua, Madame.
Happy writing, writers!
"Cast your cares on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous be shaken." -Psalm 55:22
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