A little joy

Merry Christmas!

Homemade ornaments are my favorite.

I am ready for the holiday hustle to wind down now and the actual celebrating - the joy - to commence. What's done is done ... and if it isn't by now, then it's just not getting done. It's been fun getting it all together; really, it has. But that's been the prep and now is launch.

And I hope your Christmas is a blast.

I am looking forward to a little more focus in the coming hours and days: on family, friends, blessings. I've been trying to multitask lately and it has not gone well.

Not at all.

For example, a couple of weeks ago, I accidentally parked in a handicap-designated spot at the local pharmacy. There was no sign and snow still covered the ground, hiding the symbol painted on the blacktop. I didn't even notice until I came out of the store and realized the spacing seemed too generous for a regular spot. There were plenty of other designated spots, but I felt terrible for the mistake, made in my hurried state while running errands.

A couple of days later, I dropped my keys while walking in the parking lot of another retailer. I was rifling through my purse for the next stop's list and not paying attention when my keys went flying out of hand. I bent over to pick them up and bashed my head on the bumper of a car ... parked in a handicap spot.

Karma - 1; Lorri - 0.

Last week, I had a mean case of a 24-hour virus that was probably the result of hurried hand washing while out shopping. Ug. That warning light that flashed in the car and I hoped was just, you know, nothing serious, because I didn't have time to deal with it? It wasn't nothing. It was $613 worth of something.

The other day, I accidentally sent a "luv u" text meant for my husband to someone who was, in fact, not my husband. I had multiple messages in play and was also making homemade caramel. The result? Awkward, with a side of unintentionally creepy.

Today, I was sitting in the drive-thru at McDonald's waiting for the prompt to take my order, while counting out exact change (I'm an exact-change kind of girl) and messing with the car's clock. The prompt came and I ordered my usual, a large Diet Coke ... only I didn't say Coke. I said a word that begins with C and rhymes with clock.

[I'll give you a moment]

Yep, that's what I said: a large Diet ----.

So anyway ...

I hope you are able to savor the best moments of Christmas, with your focus on the greatest gift of all: love.

Merry and bright

White shirt boxes ... can they breed? 

Yes, I mean breed - as in, make more white shirt boxes. Chicka-waa-waa. As in, when a mommy white shirt box and a daddy white shirt box love each other very much ... and they are stowed away in a super secret hiding place (aka my bedroom closet) ... and I thought I had already wrapped all gifts in the white shirt boxes ...

Then I found more. Like a small litter of white shirt boxes containing gifts that still needed to be wrapped.

I had overlooked a stash of gifts. I'm glad I found them, but was disappointed to realize I didn't quite have this whole Christmas thing managed as well as I should.

It's times like this when Christmas can feel like it's getting out of hand.

Don't judge me, ribbon-stalking cat.

One of the reasons I've not been able to keep up with the more task-centered aspects of the holiday is that I have been getting out and experiencing the holiday: enjoying festive parties and laughter with friends; reveling in glorious musical performances; spending quiet time admiring the tree lights; focusing on the true meaning and origin of it all during Advent services and through community outreach.

So I may have let the task-centered side slide a bit more this year than usual. But hey - if something gets shoved in a gift bag instead of beautifully wrapped and packaged (I shudder at the thought of it as I type), then so be it.

Many times, our traditions become chores. Our invitations turn to obligations. We try to do too much and, in a blur of activity, fail to stop and truly feel the magic. Or, conversely, we take in the holiday from a spectator's seat through TV movies and DVDs (all of which I love, by the way), but there comes a point where you have to turn off the Hallmark Channel, get off the couch and be the star of your own memories.

The season serves up a lot. And maybe we try to do too much because a lot of it is so fun - or at least we think it should be fun. Truth is, it can be overwhelming and suck the wonderful right out of this time of year.

And let's face it: Christmas doesn't come easily to all. Hearts are broken; bodies need mending; hope is fleeting; worries mount. These things don't take a Christmas break.

Christmas? It comes anyway. At its core - without radio stations blasting 24/7, glitzy commercials, cookies, packages, cards, glitter, parties, plays, the last freaking piece of tape, ornaments, unwrapped fertile white shirt boxes - it is a reminder of  something simple, yet profound: hope; a fresh start. Renewal.

But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David, a savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.' - Luke 2:10-11.

And so I will tackle what I can this season and enjoy all that I choose. I will strive to be a help to those who need me. I will open my heart to the spirit of hope offered freely this time of year.

In doing so, I know I am truly making these precious days merry and bright.

A snow day

"When I no longer thrill to the first snow of the season, I'll know I'm growing old." Lady Bird Johnson

With Lady Bird's logic, I can declare myself still of a youthful spirit.

It snowed here Friday, beginning first as freezing rain - dreadful, dangerous ice - and ending as a soft blanket of white. Huge, billowy flakes swirled like tufts of cotton, plucked and tossed from Heaven.

Remember snow days when you were a kid? I would sit with rapt attention, listening to the local AM radio station's mix of tinny-sounding hits from the likes of Sonny and Cher interspersed with rather poorly produced commercials for Main Street businesses ... just waiting for - oh, wait, did the DJ just say it? Yes! No school today!

And back to bed I would go.

Nowadays, it's less dramatic: the automated call came shortly after 5 a.m. Friday from the assistant superintendent. I was awake anyway, doing my own assessment of the weather and deciding whether I would venture out into it for the day. No school, he said. I didn't even bother to wake my son. Instead, I logged in and worked from home. My husband was off work that day and so we were settled in for whatever Mother Nature dished out.

It wasn't officially a snow day for me, but I still enjoyed watching the weather take its turn from the comfort of my warm home, with everyone safely under the same roof.

I had picked up a few groceries the night before amid the utter madness at the grocery store. Empty shelves and long lines. What is this magical concoction people make out of bread and milk in the face of a snowstorm?

Me? I went in for beer and toilet paper, the true necessities if you are snowed in.

When the snow came Friday afternoon and into the evening, I cooked a big pasta meal and made sweet snacks. Content with full bellies, we watched the snow come down and lend a lustrous glow to the outside Christmas lights.

Saturday, we slept in and shook off any cabin fever by running errands once the roads had cleared. Early this morning, we were reminded to take it slow again, thanks to a round of freezing rain and sleet. A lazy Sunday of napping and football viewing ensued. Tonight, a cozy fire crackles.

Tomorrow will bring us back to reality: the hum and rhythm of work and school will resume, while the fevered countdown to Christmas buzzes about.

For the rest of the evening, however, I will savor the slowed pace the last few days have brought me ... all thanks to that first magical snow day.