It's Christmas Eve tomorrow, which blows my mind. I'm beginning to learn that the older you get, the faster time flies. It was almost painful watching the weeks slip away, approaching the holiday with greater momentum. I felt like I was in one of those dreams where you're trying to hurry, but your limbs are numb and you feel like you're swimming in tar.
I had lofty dreams of turning my home into a scene from the Nutcracker. The romantic, sparkling Christmas that children spend sleepless nights awaiting, but it didn't happen. Things came up, we got busy, and we had errands to run, dammit. No time for frivolity.
Trent and I did manage to carve some time out to get cinnamon scented pine cones, a tiny, modest tree, and a few other Christmas-like things, and it made me feel so much closer to that dream. We even managed to snag an elusive package of ginger snap cookie mix, and Trent baked them for us one night while I slept on the couch. That is a memory that will stay with me forever from Christmas this year. The smell of cinnamon and gingerbread, the twinkling of colorful lights on our tiny tree, and the white noise of a Christmas movie playing in the background. It was small, but oh so wonderful.
Tomorrow we're doing some last minute Christmas shopping, then we'll head over to my mother's house to watch Little Women (Hello, Elizabeth Taylor), and eat pecan pie in front of a toasty fire. I absolutely cannot wait.
Photo and acorns by Stacy Winters
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