The Peppermint Piercer stands in a crowded December train car, sucking his candy cane to a needle sharp point, and eyeing his fellow travelers.
When you choose a Christmas tree, there are lots of things to think about. How tall is it? How fresh? What kind? Do the needles poke? Is it pitchy? Is it crooked? Is it a little mushed on one side so it will fit just right in the corner? Does it have a proper top bit? These are all very important questions. They don’t matter one bit. The only way to choose your tree is by smell. When you get right in amongst it, are you suddenly transported to the pitch black middle of the night on Christmas Eve, as you and your brother sneak upstairs to look at the lumpy stockings hanging in a row? You are?
When I was four years old I got a Crayola coloring set for Christmas. 64 crayons and 12 markers and a 12 pack of chalk, in a little yellow suitcase with a black plastic handle, and special slots for every single piece to nestle perfectly into the two sides of the case. I was enchanted. The perfect, flat points and waxy smell of the crayons. The powdery feel of their labels. The juicy, sharp perfection of unused markers, and the joy of snapping the caps off and on. All those colors. The best part, my very favorite thing in the whole set, was the chartreuse crayon. I’d never seen anything that color before. I loved it so much that I wouldn’t put it down. I carried it around all day, and finally took it into the bathroom with me.
Today (and all the days hereafter) I have a crush on one of my Christmas presents. Shana shares my love of selvedge, but she has the foresight to actually keep it. In a true labor of love, she made me this amazing cowl by painstakingly sewing strips of selvedge together and lining it with a fluffy blue fleece. It’s delectable, and I’m in love with it. As you can see from the last picture, I don’t even brush out my bedhead before putting it on in the morning. You can’t tell, but I’m smiling in there. Sexy. Thank you, Shana!
The Boy. My sweet and funny nephew, Grant, is celebrating his third Christmas today. I wish I could be with him to share the fun, but as we’re far apart I have to be content with pictures. Just this fall, he stopped looking like a baby and started looking like a boy. Here are some that I love.