Awww...do I have to?

It's 10pm and I just remembered it's Wednesday and I haven't written. I have a stomach ache and I want to go to bed. I'm too tired to think of anything funny, inspirational or clever, but I was here--I didn't forget. Sometimes you have to know when to call it quits.

The three gifts of Christmas

Rob and I went on a short date to Target last night to grab the last few Christmas items. We ran into a neighbor there and I asked if he was just finishing or just starting his shopping. I expressed condolences when he said he was just starting. But then he told us their family tradition: each year they give their children 3 presents--1 gift the child wants, 1 gift the parents want to give, and 1 gift in their name to a charity of the child's choice.

After our short conversation with him, I felt completely liberated by this new plan. Our shopping is already done for this year, but we are totally going to implement this for next year. I love the simplicity of it and the "pay it forward" idea of letting the kids choose a worthy cause.

I shared this idea with my neighbor and she had heard of these three gifts: something to wear, something to read, and something to play with. Also a sweet and simple list.

Tonight we made reindeer cookies and did a family service project. The house is vacuumed and we've got a cheesecake in the oven for a fancy Christmas Eve dinner with friends tomorrow night.

The only real bummer right now is that I haven't really wrapped any presents. Looks like a couple of late nights for me. I feel better knowing it will be different next year.

Rocky Mountain Christmas High

With all the hubbub of traveling, house guests, end of semester school activities, neighborhood and church parties, Christmas doesn't feel very peaceful or full of wonder (except wondering when things got so out of control?).

Yesterday I realized that one reason it doesn't really feel like Christmas is that I hadn't yet listened to John Denver's "Rocky Mountain Christmas" tape. (Yes, I have a scratchy original audiotape version, and the holidays aren't complete without it.) I dug around to find the one remaining tape player in our house and sung along with John Denver while I sewed on some gift projects.



I love John Denver and I love this album. I love his Christmas with the Muppets album too. "Aspenglow" is one of my favorite holiday songs and it conjures up all kinds of images and memories of family, home, and snow. (All of which I miss SO MUCH today!)
I'd also like to note that my favorite Christmas hymn is I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day--NOT the country-western version, but the kind sung in church, with Virginia Funk playing all the bells on the organ. (a sweet memory of my youth...)
I also love Far Far Away on Judea's Plains and the secular but very fun Winter Wonderland and I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas.
I DO NOT like these Christmas songs:
Silver Bells
The Little Drummer Boy
Please, Daddy, don't get Drunk this Christmas (Sorry John Denver, this one's a total stinker!)

What are your favorites (and not favorites) to sing at Christmas?

P.S. Listen HERE to "Carolina Christmas"--a random family favorite by the Squirrel Nut Zippers.
P.P.S. I just went back and saw that I shared similar thoughts this same week last year. I'll try to be more original *next* December.

I dreamed a dream

I always dreamed of going to Florence one day. I went. And now I'm home. Gosh, it's hard to come back to real life. (The kind of real life with responsibility, meals, cleaning, mundane phone calls, and whining kids.)

In the middle of several amazing days, I had one extraordinarily perfect day in the Cinque Terre of Italy. The picture from last week shows the town of Vernazza, and it is even more lovely in real life. As we hiked out of Vernazza, I turned to look back at the view just as the afternoon church bells began to ring. I stood in the sun, looking out at a breaktakingly beautfiful place, listening to the bells and I started to cry because it was all so perfect and wonderful and it seemed like too much beauty and happiness for one small moment.

It reminded me of a favorite poem by Billy Collins called "This Much I do Remember"--I will always carry in my pocket the small coin of that moment.