my office collects

peculiar things in my office as I left tonight: stack of books, stack of boxes of books (moving in still), bags of oranges (left over from the sunday school goodie bags) and the best: a disco ball, used to create a starry night in Bethelehem. it's that good!

santa chronicles

Much discussion in my house lately about Santa. Santa often celebrated at Big Box stores but not usually at our house (save for the pin my Mom gave me when I was about 4- Santa moves when you tug at the string- which I seem to wear a day or two every December). So to Santa or not to Santa is the question. Eventually, the Kid joins us, and do we santa or not. Can we answer questions about why Santa is only here and not, say, in Africa? Can we impress upon the Kid the reason why and why not for Santa's coming? Don't talk to strangers, we'll say, but it's okay to talk to the big, white, furry looking guy once a year?
So Sufjan Steven's song "get behind me Santa" gets a thumbs up tonight; "we all know it's coming so put your hands together." But still, get behind me Santa.

winter

okay, so it's one of my things. How come what I don't like helps me exude as much passion as what I do like? cold and snowy but gray-ness is the worst part. but it does bring out good hats, beautiful sweaters and the idea that even something as bad as winter doesn't last forever. There's a striking beauty in my commute today, the nakedness of the trees and the stark darkness. Reminds me that this is not the end, that something else is coming.