I hope you all had a blessed Thanksgiving. My birthday fell the day before Thanksgiving this year. I spent most of the day wrapping up The Ghost and Little Marie, so I could send it off to my second round of Beta readers by Thanksgiving. It goes to the editor the first of December.
Instead of joining Black Friday shoppers, my husband Don and I spent Friday on the lake. We’ve a little pontoon boat—nothing fancy, but it does the trick. The weather was amazing. There were some folks on the lake in bathing suits. I kept thinking of my friends back in colder climates, bundling up in winter wear.
Saturday, we hauled out the Christmas decorations and put up our tree. It was exhausting! I remembered when my grandma Hilda told me she wasn’t going to put up a tree anymore, because it was just too much work. At the time, I couldn’t imagine such a thing. Now, I understand.
Today we finished decorating the tree, but I still have the Nativity set to put out and my Dicken’s Village—both of which once belonged to my mother. Mom lives with us, and will be ninety in April. As much as she loved setting up both the Nativity set and Dicken’s Village each year, it’s a tradition that has since been passed to me.
Another thing I brought out today—the Holmes Christmas book. It’s a tradition my husband started over 25 years ago, when our son and daughter were children. It’s a diary of sorts, that we each write in every year, traditionally on Christmas night—yet sometimes before the New Year.
When our children married, I gave them their own Christmas book—yet I’m not sure they’ve been as faithful as Don and I have been, writing in our book each year. It’s a tradition I encourage every family to consider.
Wishing you all a blessed holiday season.
