Knock on gingerbread, but I feel like I've got the Christmas scene pretty well in hand this year. Tree's up. We've made cookies. My husband brought home a mistletoe clump the size of a tumbleweed. I've got a few minor shopping things to do, but mostly it's all wrapped up and in the bag, so to speak. Aside from rooting around in the back of my closet for something passable to wear to the company Christmas party, I'm set. Often I'm starting to feel a little harried at this stage in December. I don't know exactly how it happened, but this mellow season of waiting has been quite pleasant.
In fact, check this out: it's T-minus 10 days until Christmas, and last night I cast on some selfish knitting for myself because the Christmas crafting is done. [swingbug ducks while angry knitters hurls their needles at her from afar.]
It's not just raining knitting needles. Northern California just survived "the storm of the century", which is to say water fell from the sky, and the media had little else to talk about so they told everybody to buy out the canned goods section of the grocery store and maybe build an ark in the backyard just in case. As expected, a couple of places flooded, some folks lost power for a bit, my brother's house had a quarrel with an ent, and now everybody is fine. A couple of years of drought, and the first good storm that comes through turns us all into Chicken Little. The upside is the groundwater table has something to soak up and there's some snow in the mountains. Not as much as we'd like, but if you want yourself a white Christmas, you can in fact drive a bit up into the Sierras and locate it.
I'm not thinking much about skiing though; there's hockey to be played. Shawn and I are playing in our league's hockey playoffs, and with a little good fortune, also the championship game tonight. If you have a minute, think good thoughts for the Old Pucks team at 6:00 tonight. All I want for Christmas is a hat trick. :-)
I hope the season (be it holiday, rainy, hockey, or other) is treating you well. Don't let the Christmas kick you around too much.