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I’m trying my hand at a simple Christmas this year.  I don’t want the snow and window ornaments and tablecloths and pillows.  I’m not even sure I want a tree (though it will probably happen).

It’s not that I don’t feel the Holiday spirit,  because I do.  I just want something different.

The Holidays mean different things to me as I grow older.  The presents lose their shine,  but bringing joy to others becomes more precious.  Family becomes more precious as children grow and they tranform into their own little persons.

It’s not that family is less precious year round,  but the holidays mark a milestone,  perhaps more significantly than birthdays.   One more year has past.  New babies join the family for a first Christmas,  and some family members pass on from this earth.  These moments seem more embedded in holidays as we remember the funny and ridiculous occurrences from years past.

“Remember when mom burned the turkey?”

“Remember grandpa had his glasses on his head the whole time?”

“Remember getting your hand slapped for sampling grandma’s pie?”

“I really miss grandma.”

So this year,  I’m practicing a more simple Christmas. I want my Christmas cards to go out on time.  I want to bake cookies for my coworkers. I want to attend Mass on Christmas morning. I want to appreciate the people I love,  more.

To do these things,  I’ve limited myself to one project a week.  This week was the manger. I painted a backdrop and punched lights through it after feeling my olive wood set was a little too simple.   I’m buying a fresh wreath (which is a treat onto itself) instead of making one.

Next weekend,  the tree goes up (maybe).

This weekend:  the Christmas cards.  They have Llamas on them because our fiber friends need love too.

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