A patch of sky

I misremembered this lyric. It's actually "corner of the sky" from the musical, Pippin.

I took these photos a little while back. They came to mind today as I was seeking that clear patch in our crazy holiday schedules.

This happens every year. No, not misremembering musical lyrics. Every year, I promise myself that next year, we'll have a laid-back holiday season. We'll savor family ties, celebrate old traditions, forge new traditions, help the needy, and revel in the joys, lights, carols, love of the season. Think an unholy alliance of Norman Rockwell and Martha Stewart.

Every year, I fail.

I thought this year would be different. (I think this every year.) This year, the siblings in my and Will's families decided to donate to charities in lieu of gifts. The children, of course, will receive gifts, but not the adults. It seemed a nice way to both scale back the stress of finding just the right gift while simultaneously helping others. And it is. Of course.

But this year, we've added a plethora of teachers as well as the sitter, the mailman (who's wonderful), the newspaper delivery guy, the trash collectors, and the various and sundry folks whose work and services we want to acknowledge. Of course, they'd appreciate cash or a gift card, but I end up wracking my brains for something special. Something that says, "I took time and energy and thought to come up with this for you." This year, I've got nada.

I could bake. I love to bake. I'm good at baking. But ironically, the more pressure there is to bake, the less I want to do it. So I'm not baking. In my beautiful new kitchen. With my beautiful two ovens in which I could churn out cookies as fast as Rumpelstiltskin spins gold. What a conundrum.

Happy holidays, whatever you may celebrate. I hope that you're finding your corner of the sky.