I looked back on my 2012 posts and confirmed my realization of how terrible of a blogger I’ve been this year. Gah. Darn. Disappointed. But, that’s life.
I do love having an on-demand journal of our life, though, so I’m trying to think of ways to record relevant life events while still maintaining sanity in balancing a demanding career/marriage/life.
So, maybe I should try quicker, shorter posts? WordPress seems to be trying to emulate Tumblr these days so I may as well conform.
In that case, here’s my home, currently, all ready for the season. Apologies for not being a better iPhone/Instagram photog. We all have our own spiritual gifts, as my dear friend likes to remind me, and mine just so happens to be making soup. Sorry folks…unless of course, you happen to be eating my soup right now. In that case…lucky you!
Nothing makes me smile mas grande than seeing my beautiful Christmas tree as I walk down the staircase in the morning. I kid you not, every morning I turn the corner on said stairway and awkwardly breathe “Ahhhwwwwhhhhh…” That’s code for “Hi, you’re perfect, and you make my day”. I’m sure I’ve uttered something similar to John recently.
Dragging out the Christmas boxes from the crawlspace was half the Christmas decorating battle, but stumbling upon this gem was just the inspiration I needed to keep going…
You see, that box contained my Mom’s Christmas Village. The one I grew up admiring and fantasizing about; making up stories about living there. The perfect Christmas Village. Last year, my mom decided to finally gift her village to my sister and me (as of a couple year’s ago, she prefers displaying my Great Grandma’s now), so my sister and I civilly (more civilly than we thought possible, actually) divvied up the utopian village…
And wouldn’t you know, it fit perfectly in the dry wash basin I also acquired (without force, I swear) from my mother.
Love this season, actually.
The dingo is excited, too. As you can see, he looooves chomping on his bone from beneath the tree.
The frequent 60 degree weather was throwing me off for awhile, but I can now officially say: bring on my Christmas.