Life has a way of running away from me when I am not looking.  The “Intentional Christmas” I had envisioned for myself and my family was not what I planned, but it was meaningful and enrapturing just the same.  

I am a “Let’s-make-it-look-like-Christmas-threw-up-in-here-the-day-after-Thanksgiving” sort of girl.

That.  Didn’t.  Happen.  

For obvious reasons, moving in December didn’t accommodate that tradition.

Consequently, the Christmas season seemed abbreviated.  And simple.  That was sort of my intention, so perhaps God knew what was best after all. 

We were able to enjoy one full week of Christmas decor (which we wisely limited to the big tree, a small tree, the nativity scene and a wreath on the door).  Originally, my stellar hubby decreed that the tree, along with its accompanying decor would be up until the end of January since we’d hardly had time enjoy it.  However, thanks to my sweet princess (mostly my 2-year-old Lovey), I have a wiseman missing a hand, a wiseman missing his pointy hat, a box full of broken ornaments to fix and partridge in a pear tree.  


They will boxed up today.  With hubby’s hearty approval.


We are finally starting to feel settled.  There are many boxes tucked away in the basement to be gone through later.  A large bag of Christmas gifts remains missing, but what a surprise it will be when we find it (unless, of course, it was inadvertently thrown away with all the other trash that amounts during a big move.)

 Coffee in hand.  And a lovely book awaiting me on the coffee table.  Now if it would just snow…