I suspect by now -- if my less-frequent-than-usual blog visits are any indication -- that many of you are getting ready for the holidays. You're bringing boxes up from the basement or down from the attic, rediscovering hidden treasures like old friends, each with their stories to tell.
There's the Santa you bought on vacation, the angel a friend gave you, the ornament that reminds you of your grandmother, the creche you were given as a child.
There are those of us who will decorate with understated, simple elegance. Some of us will pull out all the stops because really, you only do this once a year. And some of us will employ both minimal elegance and opulent overabundance in our holiday celebrations.
I'm usually right there with you, ahead of the game, even, with the decorations coming out the day after Thanksgiving and done before we take off for Rick's annual trade show. The only good thing about doing my least favorite thing in the world is that I get to spend time with Rick in an almost-vacation-like atmosphere (except, of course, for the stress of the work and the importance of the event to his business).
This year, I'll be running to catch up in week or so. The out of town gifts have yet to be wrapped, much less mailed. I think most of the locals are purchased -- but until I excavate that rather large mound on the guest room bed, I won't know for sure. I'm not sure even a jolly old elf could find them.
And as you might expect, I'm not OK with that.
A nasty bug my doctor called a virus (rather than the flu) and one that he treated like pneumonia because of my own compromised situation, flattened me the week after Thanksgiving. And when I say flattened, I don't mean limping around with less productivity. I mean laying around with no productivity, a fever, wracking cough and every bone hurting. The box of Christmas cards was across the room, but I couldn't hold the pen, much less decorate, bake cookies or wrap gifts.
I was a mess and it scared the heck out of me, bringing back reminders from not all-that-distant a past of being sick beyond words.
It puts things in perspective, this vulnerability that creeps up and attacks us when and where we are most unsuspecting and leaves a mark far more damaging emotionally than one might expect.
The things that were finished, like my outdoor wreath and baskets, were made over Thanksgiving weekend. Apart from that I have done little but sleep and watch Hallmark movies. I think I have the formula down well enough that I can write one by now. The good thing about Hallmark movies is that if you miss them one day (meaning you fall asleep in the middle), you'll probably be able to hear the end of the story later. The bad thing is -- well, how many times can you watch the same movie if it's not "Singin' in the Rain"?
When you can't even handle sitting at the computer and catching up on blogs, you know something is amiss. And I've missed you.
As I write this I am on the mend. Friday I was cleared to go out in public and went to hear the wonderful Classical Bells Christmas Concert featuring blog world's own Becca Rowan. It was a fabulous show that put me in a seasonal mood. Then I went home and crashed!
Saturday I helped our board for Friends of Theatre decorate a tree for a historic home holiday showcase. It was a beautiful environment and delightfully festive.
Two hours later, I was back home -- crashed!
I'm going to be unable to visit you for a bit but I will have a post I hope you'll check in for later this week. It features some wonderful reads you might want to put on your Christmas purchase list -- and you may even recognize some of the authors!
Meanwhile, I say enjoy this glorious season. I have a lot of catching up to do in more ways than one. But really -- what is better than to celebrate?
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