This morning I slept late, at least later than I have been. I think it’s the darkness of the morning, the gray skies and the still, sort of creepy branches. It rained a bit earlier and showers are predicted for later. It will be sort of warm at 44˚.

I have no lists for today, neither inside nor outside. I have possibilities. The house still needs decorations. So far I have tried a Nala proof Christmas, but I underestimated her. That trick she used of bending over the staircase to grab the gnome is not one I would have anticipated. Now I shut bins behind doors, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she figured to how to use the knobs. She watches everything. I did finish wrapping and packing my sister’s box yesterday and only have a little bit of wrapping of my friends’ box left. I want both boxes out on Monday.

My mother always taunted us about our gifts. We said taunted. She said teased. When we were kids, she’d ask if Santa would think we were naughty or nice. What kid ever said naughty? When we were adults, she still teased and she’d give hints about our gifts, vague hints of little or no help. We all, my sisters and I, inherited Christmas from our mother, all of it, especially the teasing.

When I think about Christmas and being a kid, it’s colors and lights I most remember. Houses all over our block were decorated with the big colored bulbs, some more elaborately than others. My father was sort of in the middle. Most Main Streets were hung with swags circled in lights from one side of the street to the other. In the center was a decoration. I remember bells were hung one year.

I never tired of lights no matter how many times I saw them. My mother, my father and I, when I’d visit for the weekend, would sometimes take a light ride together. We all still ooh’d and aah’d. My mother packed a treat for our ride, eggnog in the thermos, crackers and dip in the bag.

When I’m driving to usual spots this time of year, I try to take different routes, some routes longer than necessary, but I don’t want to miss any Christmas. I don’t want to miss a house all lit or trees strung one to another with different colors. I have a couple of favorite houses I manage to see once a week. They are worth it.

I have four boxes stacked in my living room. Each is filled with gifts from friends and relatives. Usually those gifts are artfully displayed under my beautiful, uniquely decorated tree. Alas! This year they’ll sit in those boxes until Christmas morning. No poking at the presents this year. I know better than to open the boxes.

Today is perfect and hardly winter. It is 57˚ and not even nine o’clock. The sun is surrounded by a cloudless blue sky. The breeze is ever so slight. It’s almost a deck day.

Last night my world went dark, at least my Christmas world. A front outlet had gotten wet so one side of the fence lights and my cow and donkey didn’t work. I ran to the hardware store for a new extension cord so I could connect the unlit lights with the lit lights on the other side of the yard (Confused yet? Just wait. There’s more). When I plugged the new cord into the other cord, every light died: the lights out front, the floodlight, the giant star always lit and the deck lights. I knew it was more than the new extension cord. I yelled in frustration then called my friend Shane, the electrician. He came right over and got to work. It took a bit, but he solved the problem, and my yard was again bright with lights; however, there were casualties. The outlet outside the back door, the forty five year old outlet, stopped working and the timer connected to it also died so Shane had to move the plugs around the corner to a deck outlet. I have lights. I have a new timer. All is right with my world.

Tonight I’m constructing my gingerbread house. It is a big one so I bought all sorts of extra candies for decorations. The only difficult part is where to put the finished house out of reach of Nala. I’m leaning toward the mantle, but with my luck, she’ll push over a chair, stand on it and eat the house. I can see the walls come tumbling down.

When I was a kid, everything about Christmas was exciting, but the tree was my favorite. Every year it stood in the same corner. When I’d come downstairs in the mornings, I could smell the pine all over the house in every room. I’d stand in front of the tree and rub my hand up the small ends of the branches. The soft needles sprang back into place. My hand smelled like pine. At night the glass ornaments reflected the lights. They’d spin when we walked by the tree. It was a tiny light show. It was beautiful.