I love to cry at Christmastime and I do each year when Mr. Gower slaps George’s sore ear and Mr. Scrooge awakens to love. I sob, I lick my tears and rejoice in my feeling heart.

I know that transformation, that sudden realization of all the people that matter. It is awakening to Life and all it’s miracles.

This is why I love Christmas. Yes, I get overly sentimental and gushy, but I love feeling that way.

I love sleeping in my pajamas before the fire on Christmas Day, glutted with my own cinnamon rolls and snatches of rich dark chocolate. You see, we have no family near, only our own delicious quartet, and so we have no expectations of others. It isn’t lonely or depraved. It is extraordinary.

Plus, I’m a glutton when it comes to thoroughly enjoying myself. I do it so well, and when given the chance I revel in it.

The colors cranberry golden are my tribute to Cat’s call because they are so rich and warm and evoke the spirit of the season for me just fine. (They are also the colors that decorate my house, not just during this season, but throughout the year with the cranberry wall in the front hall and the honey colored pine floors throughout the downstairs.)

So nothing big here, just a clap to say I’m part of the game and enjoying it too. Such a fun one. Very nice. Thanks, Cat. And Merry Christmas to all.