I’m taking a break from dinner preparations to get this post up. I’m having a “Transplant to Seattle” Thanksgiving dinner today at my house, and I’m hosting a few of my co-workers and their spouses who also uprooted their lives this year and moved out here to join our team. Being two thousand miles from home means that, if we let ourselves, we can become very insulated out here. With no family and no “community” to speak of, it would be very easy to say that we live here, but do we live here? Continue reading “Christmas trees, musicals, and making a community”
I love fabric yo-yos. I’ve made them for years and I use them to make table covers and decorative throws. I decided to use all my older yo-yos to make a garland for my Christmas tree, and I finally got it done tonight. Continue reading “DIY: Christmas tree yo-yo garland”
2014 came in much the same way 2013 did. Platitudes. Promises. Pleadings for a second (or seventh or eleventh or twentieth) chance. Continue reading “Bitterness”
I approached the Christmas season with a healthy amount of dread, as I have previously wrote about in this post. I planned on avoiding all family gatherings and had a great excuse because of the hours I was working the fact that I would need any time off to rest. But, as it often happens, things change. Continue reading “An unexpectedly blessed Christmas”
I love Christmas music. (You have to have a heart made of wood chips not to!) Continue reading “My favorite Christmas song”
The holiday season, for some reason, makes me long to spend time in farm supply stores.
Now, you probably just cocked your head to one side like a confused canine as you stared at these words on your screen, so let me explain.
Because I’m working 65+ hours a week between now and Christmas, I gave myself exactly 11 minutes to decorate for the holiday. Continue reading “Decorating done!”
When November rolls around every year, there are always two dates on the calendar that matter – my birthday and Thanksgiving. The first grows less significant each year as I reach the age where I start to pretend that I don’t have birthdays at all. The latter, which is a holiday that’s supposed to be filled with gratitude and love and familial closeness, leaves me empty.