This year we cut a spare Christmas tree with large branch gaps. Unplugged, it's decorated with paper garlands left from Cara's wedding, my favored Russian blue dog, Darcie's hand crocheted snowflakes, and Swedish folded birch ribbon paper stars. The glass balls are a treasured collection that my husband and Ursula found discarded in our town dump years and years ago. They're barely silvered, with the softest colors.
There's just a little snow on my path to the workshop and store. I haven't even had a chance to wear my new boots.
Mucky, our polydactyl cat (28 toes counted, so far), briefly away from the excitement of tree in the house, lounges where the fire is warmest, on the wool rug my mother wove. I'm warping and weaving, on this peaceful day. I wish you all a season of pure content and happiness.