04 December 2007
the power of the gumdrop
all of the sudden, it's december. I kind of forgot how good december can be. the little dark cloud that has been looming surreptitiously over my head is no match for the scent of the fresh-cut christmas tree. the entire house smells like christmas trees. I find myself pinching the ends of the branches until the tips of my fingers are covered with sap. I grind it into the palms of my hands and think up reasons to shake hands with everyone I meet. it seems shameful not to share. that sticky, fragrant gum is impossibly magic. in the same way that charlie brown christmas music and crafts that require gumdrops and toothpicks are.
I have exuberantly jumped headfirst into the christmas season. partially because I'm more than ready to come out from underneath this funk but also because there's some really fantastic stuff going on with my church. I'm telling you, I'm ready to celebrate. I'm ready to throw off the chains and lose myself. normally, it takes me a good two weeks to ease into the season but this year feels different and I am not about to question and/or resist. the tree is up, the decorations have been thoughtfully set out and tonight, we string the lights.
we are also four days into the advent activity countdown, which is something I've always wanted to do with the kids. envelope number three called for the attaching of gumdrops to trees and wreaths, another something I've been wanting to do ever since I saw alicia's post on kiddley last year. I swear to you, the most relaxing holiday craft ever. sinking those tiny toothpicks into the soft sugary bright-colored chunks which then go on to magically transform styrofoam... is enough to make me want to cover all surfaces everywhere with gumdrops.
the list of the good that is and the good to come is a long and lovely one. I think I should like to save some for another day (lest I squander it here carelessly). one thing's for sure: the fog is finally lifting. the little snowpeople have seen to that. they've been quite persuasive.