Damn, still not early enough to catch the big wild pink show, but at least got a last glimpse. Tomorrow I will try again. The weather continues to dazzle us and we've got another balmy sunny day up here in the north woods-- boo-YAH.

Apparently, my better half is not as much interested in my dogalogues and would prefer more expository essays. Although that can't be right as aren't those supposed to be based in fact, not opinion? Lord knows, the facts know better than to show up around here. So, it's clearly not expository writing that keeps you all checking in and by the way, can I just tell you how my granite chip of a heart has been warmed and softened by the incredible comments and emails you have bestowed upon me? Seriously, it has such an effect on my sense of well-being, you have no idea. And, since we are headed into the brutal emotional terrain, otherwise known as the holiday season, I am going to cling to your kind words and hope they lift me up and carry me over to January like so many red balloons.

Yeah, yeah-- I know some of you revel in this festive, family gathering, twinkle light strewing, mulled cider brewing time of year. I wish I could join you in it all-- but it's just not to be, I'm afraid. I didn't get the Christmas gene. My sister, by contrast, begins piping in the holiday music the day after Thanksgiving-- although if you slipped into the back seat of her car any day this week, my money is on you hearing Julie Andrews warbling Silver Bells. I watch the joy she gets from setting up the dining room with elfin creatures and planning out the different decorations on her multiple trees and I think, that looks like fun. I wish I could get excited in that way.

But that's never gonna happen. Happy joyous Christmas has never been my experience and all the images of what the season should look like and feel like are illusions to me. Which is not to say I don't believe other people enjoy genuine magic at the holidays (ref: my sister above). I know that they do. And, I am also well aware that I create my own experiences so I am fully capable to turning this around should I seek to do so.

Alas, I have no desire to do so. For me, the holidays, at their best, are a time for more candlelight and an excuse to make rice krispie treats. Not that anyone needs an excuse to make rice krispie treats, but seeing as they are my crack cocaine (no lie, if I make a full tray-- I will consume the ENTIRE tray within hours of melting marshmellows in butter. As T is my witness, I have absolutely no control over rice krispie treat consumption. Children are advised to keep their hands safely away from my snapping jaw).

Wow. How did I start at sunrise and end at my helpless addiction to rice krispie treats? An addiction that could also be categorized as mysterious since I don't like marshmellows and I don't eat rice krispie as cereal. Yet another argument for collaboration being far superior to individual effort, perhaps.

Okay, now I just feel sorry for you all. Here you are thinking that somewhere in all of this I will have a point. That I actually sat down here to share a thought or idea with you and that this was all some kind of strange build-up to that little gem. That would be a no, I'm afraid. So far this morning I got up, took the dogs out for a walk, went to yoga, came back, took a few calls, sent a few emails, and am now preparing to take those wildebeasts out again before settling into a long afternoon of writing.

I'm thinking it might've been best if I had simply posted the photos. Hmmm, sorry about that.

Bisous, E

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