In the Christmas tree and lamp lit darkness, I sat tucked in the corner of my couch. The corner nearest the fire. A fuzzy blanket wrapped around me and hot coffee steaming up to my face, alternating between reading and crocheting. Fully aware what I was experiencing was the calm before the festivities really took their mark and hit. And so it was treasured. Those minutes spent to myself, fueling my reservoir of heart happiness, were treasured.
There is something soothing about being up early, starting on tasks for the day after having those precious minutes to read and take care of me. The day ahead is still wide open while in the morning darkness. Almost as if I'm stealing time, taking it for my advantage.
Slowly, the light filtered through my windows and brought with it a dare I say, perfect snowfall.
I always have the urge when the snow is falling in flakes to get out in it; I'm sure yet another trait of my always ready to pounce inner child. Instead of tromping through and playing, it was a trip to the grocery store. Still early enough on Sunday morning it was nearly abandoned, just the way I like it. Especially while still wearing pajamas.
Once home it was the start of the finale of preparations to the big show of Christmas. Sugar cookie making next to my kitchen window was spiritual. The best kind of spirit.
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