5 things . . .

5 of my favorite Christmas songs:

1. O Come, All Ye Faithful
2. Silent Night, Holy Night
3. Away in a Manger
4. O Holy Night
5. The Little Drummer Boy

And a little bonus:

Holiday baking

I'm gearing up for a bake fest on Saturday. A holiday bake-fest that is.

After the Christmas program practice on Saturday morning I am planning on taking the rest of the day to do some baking. Cinnamon rolls, peppermint bark, fudge, and some cookies!

Mmmmm . . . I can't wait!

Melancholy

Mmm . . . this is going to be a hard post. But it is something that has been on my heart lately.

Most of my life, through my sophomore year in college, I had been blessed by the fact that I had experienced very little loss in my life. I was one of the few people who knew all four of their grandparents (I am still blessed in that respect) and I even knew both of my great-grandmothers.

Sure, I had had pets die. I particularly remember four kittens that I had played nursemaid to because their mother had died and they hadn't been weened yet. That was a very sad day for me.

When my great-grandmothers died . . . I don't know how to explain it. It seemed distant. I don't know . Maybe it seemed more distant because I was unable to go the funerals and it didn't seem quite as real. Just a kind of fading away.

Not that I didn't love them. Because I did. And I have great memories of them that I drag out of my dusty brain and ponder every once in a while.

It wasn't until a few years ago that a death smacked me in the face and grief made me lose my breath.

It was my first experience of a person truly dear to my heart dying. It was unexpected, even though it occurred during a surgical procedure. All indications were that it would be routine and would have a positive outcome. It was of a young person. A friend who I had graduated from college with, who I had seen months before and had talked to days before.

Still, today, this week, this month, I feel the grief catch hold for a few moments. Until I remember where she is now. Until I remember the bright light she was. Until I remember the bright light she will always be in my life.

Here a sniffle, there a sniffle, everywhere a sniffle, sniffle

Ah, so as I take a deep breath through my nose, I am thankful today to be on the other side of a cold. The side where I don't have to breathe through my mouth or have a kleenex constantly in my hand or don't feel like my brain has turned into a cotton ball.

I woke up on Saturday with a scratchy throat. I wonder if I acted differently at work? I'm not sure but I felt like I avoided conversation and smiling because it irritated my throat. I sniffled and coughed through church on Sunday and dozed most of the afternoon.

Monday I felt well enough to shovel -- it was sunny out so that helped a lot! Of course it snowed again today so I will have to go out again. Gotta love winter!

Today, I was able to breath through my nose, yeah! And I have been able to habitate rooms without boxes of kleenex in them! Making progress!

My goal is to be over this cold by Friday when the sister comes back to Iowa for Christmas. Because 1) I do not want to infect my family 2) having a cold during the holidays is not fun.

Camera Play

I was playing with my camera again. Here are a couple of the better ones. My goal was to get just the right photo of my tree:

I don't know if I really got just the right photo but . . .

The sepia toned one.

The glowy one (the technical term is glowy).

And my favorite (due to the kitty cuteness).