I’m writing this by the light of the Christmas tree. It’ll come down tomorrow so I’m enjoying one last night in the magical glow of twinkle lights and 25+ years of ornaments crowded onto pine boughs. When my daughter was little and it was time for Santa to visit, I’d sit in the dark much like this. There’s something about this time of night and the season. I almost expect to hear a ho ho ho coming from the chimney.
It’s been another year of trials and tribulations. Where last year was filled shocked disbelief at the strangeness of our world, I think this year is a weary numbness that the strangeness has not fully subsided. Things are better but we are more likely to have redefined normal than to have found it again.
I’ll be making another move in the next few months. My house will go on the market. Things will go back in boxes. I just don’t know where I’ll end up just yet. The plan of the last decade has crumbled around the edges in a matter of days.
Part of me wants to stuff everything into a storage unit and travel the country. I’m not sure it’s the best time to do that. Then again, it’s really no different than working from home. Home will just have wheels. Maybe I’ll convert this into a travel blog. 50 States from My Kitchen Window.
I’m liking the sound of that more and more.