My friends, we can’t have beaches this year it seems, but we have our dreams.
It’s the year of finding new ways to celebrate.
Doing a lot with a little.
Making a list of tiny joys.
I hope you and yours are okay, that you find a way to talk or zoom or be together, that you have some happy memories of people you’ve lost this year. I hope Christmas isn’t lonely, that the lights still make you remember all the magic of the season.
I wish you falling snow or sunshine, seafood or turkey, all the simple treats you love.
Love. Lots of it, over and over.
My family of four will celebrate together as I take a blogging break from now until the New Year. I appreciate you being here, and I’m grateful that you spend your time reading and thinking right along with me, as real or virtual friends.
Have a happy, safe, fun holiday. I’ll see you on the other side in 2021.
Love Catherine x
PS. A couple of Christmas traditions I never miss:
Watching Miracle on 34th Street, filmed in 1947—a classic and way better than It’s a Wonderful Life. Here’s the old-fashioned trailer for the film!
And this: Christmas Camp Out. Every year for the past two decades, my husband and the boys camp out in front of the tree on December 23. For years it involved treats and hot chocolate — with new matching Christmas pjs. This year, it will probably involve pjs, politics and scotch. They grow up, the pjs get bigger, but some traditions remain the same. We always read a Christmas story written in 1892. It’s SO FUNNY and charming, and could have been written five years ago. It’s called Christmas Every Day by American writer Willian Dean Howells. (Here it is, read by actors.) You can download the story here.
