This year will be slow when we need it to be, full of excitement when that's what we want. It will be defined by thoughtful moments.
Tomorrow we might string popcorn. Yesterday Sena and I made wreaths. We might make wrapping paper or bake ginger bread, drink hot chocolate with cayenne and cinnamon or watch A Charlie Brown Christmas for the very first time. I almost made a list of things I wanted to do this holiday season, and then decided against it. Lists just beg to be checked off, and I don't want the pressure of things left undone. Whatever we do, it will be intentional.
Arlo is doing his best to get into the spirit. He sings "Jingle bells, hey!" with vigor and enthusiasm. Even his walk seems more joyful these past few days. He enjoys playing with the Christmas ornaments we have left in his reach, things made out of wood or felt.
On Saturday night we finally drove down to Flat Iron Farm's in St. Mary's County. I've been meaning to do it for at least a half dozen years. And although the pictures don't accurately convey the Christmas cheer, it was there all right. We paid for over-priced pony rides, took silly pictures, hung out with some baby goats. We bought old fashioned candies and fried apple pies. The hour long car ride would not have seemed worth it if the kids hadn't been so damned pleased with it all. But they were, so it was. On the way home, we dodged deer and stopped for pizza. It was the sort of night that is what I want from this December.