Deck the Halls with Flogging Molly..

It's 11:06 pm on Thursday before Xmas. I'm working tomorrow per normal and should be in bed, but have my latent holiday brownies in the oven, so I'm up extra latently. Which doubles as an excuse to have the house to myself!

I tucked Edie and her cousin Simone into bed tonight singing an endless cycle of "Silent Night" - which is such a lovely tune, but I always start to mumble when I get to the "Christ our Saviour" bit. I wish this season was pure light and clarity, but it is so very conflicted and abstract. I like the general sweetness of it's origin, but not being a True Believer it's hard to be fully immersed in the entire experience. I wish the holiday was built around how jaw-dropping Arana Gulch looked this morning, with the mist gently rising from the newly green meadow.

Or around how much I love the smell of sauteeing onions and butter. Or when my hair curls the right direction. Or the joy of finishing a project. Or when my kids are engrossed in something for a good while and emerge triumphant with something new. Or when my husband lets stress roll off his back. Or the magic of REALLY good music that knocks you out of where you are stuck.

These are tangibles I can relate to. Not some random guy from centuries ago. I don't mind the centuries, and the wisdom is real, but the corruption since has made the association with that little christ-child a little flimsy. But, yea verily, this makes for dee-licious comedy.


OK - it's now 11:59, the brownies are crisped around the edges and soggy in the middle. I think I should stick to onions and butter.

Happy Yule! God, I really do love Christmas. Gulchmas. Onionmas. Musicmas. Happymas. Productivemas. Kidmas. Mas.