"Oh, it's the most won-der-ful time... of the year..."
Can't you just hear Andy Williams singing that? Well, for me, he's singing that about today--the day after Christmas.
I love this day.
I mean, yeah. December is nice. The cards, the radio carols, the family gathered together, the gifts, the food, the people in shops smiling and wishing you Happy Holidays (well, some people, anyway). The old Christmas films, of course.
And the yearly Christmas miracles are great. Ours, this year, being that Christmas came in the middle of Tom's 9 days off! (We nearly fainted. "Has that ever happened before?" we wondered.)
But give me December 26th, my own New Year's Day, of sorts. The day when Christmas The Way I Love Best begins all over again for eleven anticipatory months ahead.
The day when I leap back into Life As Normal, with normal feeling downright pleasant. Normal mornings of secret coffee meetings with my Friend, hanging-out with my husband, and puttering around my old house in my aprons. Feeding the backyard birds, squirrels and mice, running errands, taking walks through snowy or sunny neighborhoods ninety years old, sitting on the front porch with 1930's magazines, reading books and blogs and recording in my own blog these simple, but satisfying old-fashioned days of mine.
The most wonderful time of the year, indeed! Eleven normal months ahead--and I can hardly wait.
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