Downstairs the carpet cleaner is at work making it a good time for me to be upstairs on my computer. It is the second day of heavy rains, but I am not complaining. It may take a little longer for the carpet to dry, but Lord knows, the lakes and rivers can still use the water from the sky.
Christmas is approaching. I have decorated the mantle, and strung the rail of the bridge with fake greenery and lights, and tomorrow will decorate the tree that I decisively bought in record time two days ago. Then I will try to keep it - the house and my poor brain - together for a couple of weeks.
Decorating for Christmas doesn't have rules. People can do their own thing and be as minimal, contemporary, vintage or tacky as they like. They may hang a gazillion lights and displays outside or do nothing but garnish their front door with a simple wreath. To me it all looks pretty. My co-worker Pam said she has done her decorating, only one thing. She placed red light bulbs in the eye sockets of her cow skull. I am more of a traditionalist. I drag out the same old cherished things year after year and fondly remember.
In what ever way we decorate or celebrate, it is a time for keeping in touch, reflecting, sharing, giving and having grateful hearts.
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