Um, sorta missed the point

So, I was browsing ThinkGeek.com when I found this:























I want it.

Being that time of year, I email my parents and my sister the link and tell them I want this for Christmas. My parents have no clue how to buy off the internet, so I figure my only hope is my sister.

Today she emails back "I want one too!"

Um... sorta missed the point there darlin'.

So then I'm talking to my mom tonight and she says "I don't know how to do that stuff, but if you'd like it, you can order one for you and one for your sister and, it won't be a surprise for you, but I'll buy them."

So, I'm getting my shirt. But I have to buy my own Christmas present.

Somehow, this didn't quite work out properly.

"I want one too". Nice.

Much more than just a seasonal treat this year

I moved out of my parents house 2.5 years ago.

My first Christmas on my own, I collected my favourite Christmas cookie recipes so that I could make in my new home, my new town, my new life.

That's as far as I got.

Last year, I dug out the recipes. I made a grocery list. I bought all the ingredients. (Including a 5 lb bag of chocolate chips I proceeded to eat throughout the course of 2006 - since I never ended up baking with them.)

One step further.

This year, I was determined to actually make the Christmas cookies. In a year where my umbrella New Year's resolution was "Get Your Life Under Control"... where, around October, I realized I had given it a stellar effort and could be proud of myself for pulling so many facets of my life under control with some success..., where the world seemed to be falling apart all around me even as I was fairly happy with how my life was going personally... this year it suddenly became imperative that I actually bake the cookies. Not just think about it, or dream about it, or start to plan to do it and get too busy.

This year, if I didn't get the cookies made, I had decided it was going to somehow represent my complete inability to take control of my life and make it what I want. A lack of Christmas cookies was going to result in a feeling of complete defeat and despair... and likely a bit of a breakdown (a la sitting on the kitchen floor crying). That's a lot of pressure to put on 2 cups of sugar and 1 3/4 cups of all-purpose flour.

This week is Christmas cookie week. Ingredients were purchased Monday and Chocolate Macadamia Nut Bars were made. Tonight it was Cranberry Squares and PeanutButterScotch Squares. Several options are available tomorrow. The rum balls and cinnamon pinwheels will likely be on the weekend.

The Christmas cookies will be made. No matter what it takes.

And, as I fight through the end of year burnout and fatigue at work, I find the thought of Christmas baking is what drives me through the day. Excitement growing as quitting time nears, so I can go home, peruse my recipes and decide which yummy treat I will make that night. And as I bake, and listen to Sarah McLachlan's Wintersong CD for the 7 zillionth time, I actually start to relax. And forget about life. And just enjoy being.

And when I hand out the little packages of cookies at work next week, the people who receive them will see delicious little pieces of joy and happiness with chocolate or butterscotch or cinnamon accents.

But not I. I will see victory.

Letter from Santa

Yes, you read that right. FROM Santa.

Last week, I was flipping through my mail when I got. I started to think about how easily it would be to get depressed if I wanted. Two pieces of junk mail. A Christmas card addressed to the former homeowners. A Christmas card from my travel agent. And a white envelope, with only the words "Still Single?" on the front. (Why yes, yes I am. Thank you.)

Something caught my eye as I flipped over the one piece of junkmail to tear it in half. The return address was from Finland.

I opened the envelope and pulled out the paper. It started...

Dear Cecilia,

Here at the Arctic Circle, we are all very much looking forward to Christmas again! As you may have guessed, the Elves are already busy preparing presents.

It goes on to talk about the special Elf task force dedicated to determine who had been good this year and how my name came up and how it showed I had been good all year. And how it's important to remember we need to be friendly and helpful and do our chores swiftly and take special care of the environment. It talks about how the reindeer are eating the special lichen for extra strength to make the most important journey of the year. Then Santa wishes me and my loved ones a very Merry Christmas and all the best in my life.

With all the crappiness of the preceding month or so, that letter, from the Santa Message Centre in Rovaniemi, Finland, where my sister submitted my name when she was there in June, not only lifted my spirits but reminded me why I love Christmas so much - the hope, the peace and the joy.

I may no longer believe in Santa, but I still believe in his magic.

And...

I just looked outside and it's snowing!!


(And I still have my Halloween decorations up)

Sleep in heavenly peace

Something switched on today, December 1st.

Christmas excitement.

While I had a couple days in the middle of October where I was more than ready to put up my tree, for the most part I can't stand anything Christmas before December. It's just too soon. This year, while I've managed for the most part to see past the premature decorations, the early bird Christmas carols have been particularly excruciating. Any time I hear one, I actually, physically cringe.

Today, buying my lunch, I heard one in the store.

And got excited.

Because it's December 1st.

It's time for Christmas.

I was just perusing Sarah McLachlan's "Wintersong" online. (Silly me, I knew she had a new CD out - I didn't realize it was a Christmas CD). I started listening to the track samples. I got to Silent Night.

Now, my official favourite Christmas carol is O Holy Night, but, as a kid (before I knew of O Holy Night), my favourite was Silent Night. And my most quintessential Christmas moment, the moment where I feel "This is Christmas. Christmas is officially happening" is sitting in Christmas Eve mass, after Communion, when they play Silent Night. A truly peaceful, beautiful moment.

Last year, my grandmother had a stroke. Was in the hospital, then had to enter a nursing home. We didn't go to Christmas Eve mass because we were going on Christmas Day at the nursing home to be with her. Given the location and situation, it was a fairly basic mass, without much singing. I didn't think anything of it beforehand.

After, I realized just how much the Christmas music meant to me. This year I decided I would do both. Be with the family but also go Christmas Eve. To hear the choir.

The last couple days I've really started to long for the week I'll get to go home for Christmas and sit on the couch in the family room, in front of the fire place, in that place of peace and calm. And tonight, as I clicked through the tracks on the CD, I got most excited for that moment at church when they'll start playing Silent Night.

23 days to go.