As the rush of activities for Christmas slows down for our family (and I hope for you), I turn on some Christmas carols and look around at my home and loved ones. I’m typing in view of our Christmas tree, filled with beloved ornaments. A cup of tea is steeping that I will enjoy soon. My oldest is home following her finals and my youngest has only a half-day of school left before her vacation starts. Ah yes, the joys of hearth and home during the holidays….
My carols are competing with two televisions, the buzz of texts to a boyfriend, and a discussion between a sixteen-year-old and a twenty-one-year old about the likelihood that an American equivalent of Hogwarts exists. Dirty laundry waits for its turn to go into the washer and dryer by the basement door, because its owner is watching one of the aforementioned TVs. The decorations in the entryway are competing for space with a book bag, shoes, and boots while I ponder whether the Christmas dinner I planned will include enough food for the boyfriend and my aunt and uncle, invited to join us by my mother (thankfully, she informed me of this before Christmas Day itself).
The pile of cards needing stamps catches my eye, as does the cat snoozing in a previously cat-hair-free spot on our tree skirt. There’s some additional baking to do as well. And I just realized that I can’t remember where I put some of our gifts. Wrapping paper and ribbons cover the basement floor because the last person that used them didn’t put it away.
Oh, and I just realized that I need to research the British East India Company for my WIP, possibly resulting in some major rewriting.
The most wonderful time of the year? YEAH, BABY!!!
Ann Stephens 