It’s two nights before Christmas and my family home is almost ready. Our tree is trimmed and our table ready to be set.
The linens have been sorted through and ironed, and the centerpiece created.
The knitting is complete and the gifts are wrapped; there’s even a suspiciously shiny package for me under the tree.
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| I tucked a note to my husband inside the hand-knit gloves. |
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| For the record, even though this shiny gift has been wrapped so it can be opened without disturbing the wrapping paper, I haven’t peeked! It was reeeeeeeeally tempting to look inside, especially when I had to move in order to pick the strand of lights up off the floor to take the picture.) |
After a hearty dinner of chicken soup, I can now relax with tea and cookies and knit my first post-Christmas project. My mom baked the cookies, and they’re the same ones we made each year when I was growing up. As I savor these cookies, really good childhood Christmas memories come flooding back to me. It’s such a good feeling, and the memories are so vivid and visual. I look forward to making the same cookies with my kids when they’re old enough so they can have the same kind of experience, while doing the baking and the eating 20-something years later.
If only a Christmas Story were on TV.
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