What, are we in Australia?

It reached 80 degrees today. On December 11th. The end days are here.

How is one supposed to enjoy her newly trimmed Christmas tree in BALMY weather? It's a drain on the Christmas spirit, I tell you.

Luckily, this year, Christmas at our house comes with a one year old, so that balances things out in the spirit department. It's impossible not to feel full of love for friends, family, fireplaces, the Three Tenors, and baby Jesus while watching your 13 month old's first Christmas tree lighting. The moment John plugged in the lights for our Christmas tree reveal, Paige stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide, her mouth open. Then she slowly lifted her hand to point at the tree in a gesture that said, "Holy. Crap. Do you guys SEE this?" She stood pointing for a good minute and a half, yawping in glee every few seconds. Then she attacked the ornaments.

Throughout the day today she's been happily carrying around all the holiday tchotches that I've placed around the house. They're all baby safe, but her swiping is putting a damper on my attempts to fancy up the house. Her favorites are the red pillar candles that I put out on the hearth, the kind that come in graduating sizes and fill a room with eau de noel. She enjoys the challenge of carrying things with a bit of heft, living dangerously and all that.

Tonight is just a quickie entry and then it's back to the grindstone, which for now is a folder fat with research papers. When the tide of papers ebbs, I'll be back to warm your hearts with tales of holiday joy and Christmas pickles (when I'm not chained to the sewing machine, trying to stay true to that mother#$%#$% handmade pledge)

p.s. The picture I used with this post captures perfectly Paige's expression when she saw our tree all lit up for the first time. No, no, not the baby...the giraffe.