This is the story of a girl.
A girl who knew nothing about tools. A girl who, every time she wanted to do projects around the house (and this was something she wanted to do a lot), had to rely on her husband’s help.
And don’t get me wrong, the girl’s husband was very kind, and he did help. Often.
Winter is my favorite season.
There is something beautiful in the blue-gray sky of winter, and of stark trees with twiggy branches. I love cold air where you can see your breath, and frost on windows, and I get excited about wearing a sweater and scarf over shorts and flipflops. Maybe this stems from growing up in Florida, where winters are imaginary, and too many Christmases were spent in nontraditional-75-degree-weather-with-a-nice-touch-of-humidity, but I adore winter. (Seriously, who has ever read A Night Before Christmas where he throws open the shutters to green grass!?)
Okay, I have serious issues.
Because what I was supposed to be doing was this: putting away Christmas decorations. And I did do that (hmm…for the most part). But when I got to my Christmas Table Decor, and I started putting away the holiday plates, and the glass Christmas trees, and anything else directly related to Christmas, what I had left on the table looked….well, quite pretty.