Christmas Eve

The house is quiet. They’re all out. I could start on the cinnamon rolls. All that yeast work.

No, not yet.

I should finish wrapping.

No, wrong moment for that.

Indeed, part of me, that childish part, wants to walk over to the tree and give a shake to a box or two already there.

But I wont.

I’ll sit quietly for a minute and watch the eve of Christmas Eve take hold.

The day was busy. Of course. Picking up foods to make tonight and tomorrow was itself a huge task. So there wasn't much time for taking stock. Enjoyable, sure it was a thoroughly enjoyable day. And very pretty, in an icy sort of way.









But busy. Now, for the next hour, I need not be busy. I can wait. And listen. O Holy Night from Carla’s Christmas Carols is playing on a daughter’s iTunes. Jazzy. Lovely.

So much of what is around me is simply lovely.

winter holiday

The snow comes down furiously. Chased out of the clouds. Amazing how calm it becomes once it touches the ground.

The holiday ebb of shoppers at the corner store where I work has slowed because of the snow. We’re in the midst of a winter storm warning. How many storms will it take to get us through this season?

I restock shelves, depleted after days of rapid fire selling. Except for the jazzy holiday music, for now, it is quiet.

Winter holidays. What a great thing they are! They put me in a trance that then pushes me through December as pleasantly as if it were June. Even though really, it’s not even full blown winter yet, storms outside notwithstanding.

Did you notice, for example, that the lake here isn’t frozen?




Downtown, anyone can tell that it’s winter break. State Street is empty. Alright, except for my daughters.





And now it’s evening. I finish my final preholiday turn at the shop.





I tidy up, close the register, blow out the holiday candle and face the furious and wet flakes all the way home.