December

It's December.

The NaNo is done.  The thing is on paper.  The holes are punched.  I took the next step and took the 2010 book out of the "working binder".  I tucked it away in my plastic accordion folder, stashed it back in my messenger bag and left if next to the bed.  Then I put the 2012 thing into the binder.  I have my pens and loose leaf ready to go.

It's hard to believe it's time to rewrite.

It's December.

The tree is up.  The candles are in the windows.  Most of the shopping is done.  Advent is happening.  Cookies and treats are being made and eaten.  I almost feel a little relaxed and ahead of the game except for this nagging feeling that I'm forgetting something major and it's all going to blow up around the 20th or so.

It's December.

We are living on clementines, cookies, hot chocolate and peppermint, with an occasional side of comfort food.  By January we may all look like snowmen having eaten our weight in delicious holiday goodies.

It's December.

I'm naturally a Grinch.  A huge green Grinch.  My kids are elves.  Mr. & Chicklet are elves.  I'm trying not to  Grinch.  I've had Christmas music almost constantly since Thanksgiving.

I'm suspicious at best, I'll come around to a spunky melancholy, she said while Dan Fogelberg's Old Lang Syne played on the radio.