1.03.2016

Not A Creature Was Stirring


It was sixty degrees on Christmas Eve.  When the sunshine spilling over the mittens alerted me, I made the children run outside and use wisely the last few hours of daylight.






I cranked the ISO super-high to make Zeke visible, but here he is (in the darkness of a setting sun) barefoot, on December 24th.






Debbie was not present for the annual stocking-stretching ritual.  I blame her absence for the ensuing chaos, but after a half hour of this, I at least had the presence of mind to order them up to bed.





I was pretty pleased with myself for avoiding an all-nighter this year.  Three cheers!  You won't be so impressed when I tell you that I didn't get into bed until after 2:30, but in my defense, I had finished wrapping all presents, both large and small, shortly after breakfast, and had divided, wrapped, and sorted into bags all stocking stuffers the previous night.

HOW THEN DOES IT TAKE HOURS FOR THE KITCHEN TO LOOK LIKE THIS?






In a word-- COOKIES.

I blame the cookies.  There are seven cookie children now, you know, and they take a goodly amount of time to frost.

There's little point in telling you which cookie belongs to which child.  I'm sure the uncanny resemblance to their real-life counterparts already gives it away.  (But just in case you can't see beyond the frosting to the soul within, the order goes from oldest to youngest.)



























 It felt good to tie up all the loose ends and, wiped out, finally turn out the lights,






leaving a downstairs all shrouded and still..





and cleaner than it ever is when people other than me are awake.





I placed the Baby in the creches, started the wise men on their journey, and all was at peace,






All at peace, except for this one discordant note at the top of the tree. 





3 comments :

Renata said...

I love your Christmas 'people' tradition! I never realised how large they were until I saw that picture of Aidan in the next post!
You do a fantastic job & I am always inspired by the little things you do to make these celebrations more meaningful.

Oh & this year Jud asked to stay home for Christmas, but we'd already committed to going to Qld. Next year we have assured him we will try & stay home though so we can have a relaxed time! It's important that some Christmases are like that!

Blessings
Renata:)

Abigail said...

Yeah, that picture of Aidan makes me look like the World's Worst Mother. He's ingesting as many pounds of sugar as he actually weighs! :) I'd like to mix things up in the future, too. Some Christmases are definitely meant to be savored slowly instead of with all the bustle of company.

Rebecca said...

Your kitchen is so, so beautiful. Everything I imagine a kitchen should be. Especially in twinklelight.