I’m trying to settle into the routine back home but we’re not quite there yet. Gerry’s been under the weather since just after I left for Kamloops so life’s running at a slower pace than usual. It’s kind of nice. Still, I’m hoping for a return to good health and semi-normal routines next week.
I put our non-traditional tree up yesterday. It’s surrounded by a protective fence to keep Molly from chewing at it. I love the cozy ambiance the tree provides. That, and a scented candle has me unapologetically settling in with a Yorkie on my lap, a mug of tea on the table beside me, and my Kindle in hand at all hours of the day. ‘Tis the season, after all.
I can’t help but think about Christmas. Can I tell you a secret? On the surface, it’s never been my favourite holiday. Too much hoopla. Too much pressure. Too much of pretty much everything. Ah, but behind the glitter there’s the holy richness that is altogether different.
We’re creeping up on Advent. On the recommendation of our priest, I picked up Brian Zahnd’s The Anticipated Christ and look forward the daily readings. Gerry and I like to celebrate a quiet Christmas and this year will be no different. I’m going to get what little shopping I need to do within the next couple of weeks so I can enjoy the rest of season without the pressure. Still, I’ll be glad when it’s Boxing Day.