It has been so hard to sit and write anything... my brain is full of feathers and fuzz... things that tangle into other things and sound a lot like worry, or fretting... but really it is nothing, just worlds colliding and the holidays coming in the door.
I honestly have taken a couple pictures but so far none of them have been downloaded onto the computer...and I have been making things, but they are all Christmas gifts, so I'm keeping them under wraps... plus, since they are mostly outside what I normally do, they are not note worthy other than to say to one person or another, I love you... I've baked some bread... still not the hard crusted french bread I had a recipe for long before my kids were born... it was the BEST bread... so if you know of a really exceptional, and a bit salty(Ithink this was the secret) French bread, I'd love it if you shared... I have made my rum and brandy balls and put up the tree, hung the wreath on the door, played the Christmas music set I've downloaded into my iPod
I'm teaching a Sunday School class... it's a discussion class and I am the facilitator but not the authority. Today we talked about preparation and then read a story, For Being Good, by Cynthia Rylant, about a boy and his grandfather. This week of trees and wreaths and gifts and music have made me think of Christmas hopes and Christmas pasts and they all stir about making me happy and hopeful and sad all at once... so talking about preparation was what I needed at the time. And the class has helped settle me and returned my attention to the moment, where we all should reside.
The coming week is already filling and before I know it this whole season will pass, so it is my task to watch the path I am walking, to be attentive to the mood and music... and to be happy and to allow the future to unfold without expectation.
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