
The other day Danny and I pulled the little Christmas tree that my grandma gave to me a few years ago out of the attic. We waited till we were in a particularly Christmassy mood and then we went shopping for ornaments and lights. When we got home we warmed some cider and turned on some Christmas music to be festive and connect with our hundreds of years of Christian heritage. There really is magic in the Christmas season and in the celebrating of it. We laughed and smiled so much my cheeks hurt. We sang a little and tickle-fought a little and kissed a little and it was perfect. We only bought a few ornaments, and we didn't find a tree topper (we want a classy but not glamorous or glitzy star), so we left it because it's only our first Christmas and we're ok with starting off small and building as our life together builds. I have added some red berries since though and I'm glad; they add just the right contrast of color to make it look balanced. After the tree, we went outside and put up some retro-looking, big-bulbed, multi-colored lights that we both love. I danced.




And, yes, that's a black eye - what's left of a funny accident with the car door at the end of a long day on Thanksgiving.













