New Traditions

The holidays have been trying for me this year.  It is hard for me to live in the moment- to relish the little moments of time.  It is hard for me not to focus on the inevitable- the loss of my father, and all that entails.  Trying to not think about that is as effective as not thinking about pink flamingoes when someone brings them up.  Impossible.  Now my mind is muddled with my father's dying and pink flamingoes.  (Which, is a more than slightly humorous juxtaposition, is still more than slightly morbid.)  Our tree is up, and lovely; though our wreath has yet to be hung.  All the Christmas shopping is complete for family and friends, though nothing is wrapped.  May not happen at this rate.

Husby has been very busy with Holiday Parties and Gatherings at work- it has ran him ragged, and he is now snarffully, which means I am, too.  Timidly, we both asked each other if we could go Christmas shopping for each other, together.  This is something we did a few years back for Valentine's Day when the pressure of finding loverly presents, wrapping and bow-tying them was just too much pressure.  We had a wonderful time.  We raided Sur La Table, and had fun playing with all of the gadgets and never-before-heard-of contraptions that left us wondering how we'd ever lived without them.  It was intimate and delightful.   It resulted in a luxurious home-cooked meal by the two of us with our new together-presents.  It was one of the best Valentine's ever.

Today we are going to Christmas Together-Present shop.  Husby thinks he might want a guitar.  Or maybe those toesy-shoes that are waterproof, so he can pretend to be a mountain goat with Chloe on the beach cliffs.  Or something completely different, and neither of those things.  I am aching for new paint supplies and maybe a canvas or two.  Or one of those lovely, large woven baskets to take to the Farmer's Market.  I don't go to the Farmer's Market nearly as often as I'd like to, but I might- if I had a lovely, large woven basket.  Or a drop spindle.  I really want one of those.  We shall see- it will be an adventure.  We could come home with anything, and it will be just ours: intimate and delightful.  Our new tradition.