m,

Note: I owe you Christmas decor photos as well. Remind me.

So among the broken seals and dampness in my life, there continues to be the car issue. It is currently in the shop, where I hope someone steals it. No really. It’s just that it’s going to cost an annoying, borderline obnoxious and certainly ill-timed amount of money to fix, since they had to remove the windshield in order to replace the seal, and the windshield cracked, yadda yadda. It’s all a racket. I’m ignoring it. Serenity now.

And apparently I should invest in a draft snake for the back door? Or just roll up a towel. Like in the olden days, when people just lived with a problem, rather than charging a solution to their Visa/Mastercard.

And there are ants in the living room. They crawl on my children and squish themselves (through no fault of my own, honestly) onto my Christmas packages and wrapping paper. I can’t say I’ve ever gone that route with gift accoutrement, but there’s a first time for everything? Meanwhile, I am afraid to discover what lurks in the coffee table from which they proliferate. Could be a cookie. A dead body--

Obviously maggots and such would consume a dead body, not ants, and that’s a superfluously disgusting segue, but speaking of which, there’s a house in the next neighborhood over where a body was recently discovered, possibly there since spring. With people living there! Caretakers coming and going daily. It’s all very suspect, alarming, etc.

The mountains were lovely as usual, and they continue to call my name. If you can find a place beautiful in the depths of dead, dry, yellow winter, then there must be something there. But to uproot, I don’t know. After how many years now, I must admit this place is growing on me. Not unlike the mold in our shower (to which I do intend to apply rubbing alcohol). So it’s a maybe and a we’ll-see sort of daydream.

Our little tree is looking rough, like it needs water, even though it has some? Or maybe it’s just my imagination. I experienced a few dark hours recently re: the holidays, channeled Charlie Brown with deep dismay over the pointless commercialism and gift-giving when really shouldn’t we all just be nice to each other as a better gift? But I soldier on in maintaining our traditions and seek the light. Tomorrow I will make Oreo bonbons for the annual cookie exchange and try not to eat too many.

One thing said in yoga: a certain kind gesture or word to a stranger may be the only incidence of goodness he or she experiences this holiday season. Though surely it wouldn’t restore a person’s faith in humanity, completely, it also can’t hurt. So, do.

A single, giant grievous pile of *whatever* looms in the laundry room for me to sort and organize. Can’t handle it at the moment. Can barely breathe enough to wrap my head around what needs to be done by such-and-such. Soldier on, soldier on…

Reading: zero books. A few magazines. Listening to Christmas tunes on Pandora, but a special note to Celine Dion: You are not allowed.

More soon. xo.

-pen