Let there be light

The best thing about the Christmas season is the lights, and in the past couple of weeks, the neighbors on the west side of my block have done a fine job of putting lights on their houses—nearly every one has some assortment or other. In bleak contrast, with the exception of one bravely cheerful home, my side of the street has had the look and feel of a block under blackout orders. So this afternoon I went downtown and bought two 35-light strings of LED lights and festooned them through the passionflower vine at my front door. Looks beautiful, and I feel much better.

Becalmed in December

That's how I am right now: becalmed. I've done what Christmas shopping I'm going to do (since I'll be traveling to Southern California for the holiday, I've ordered all the gifts for the SoCal family online and had them sent directly there so I don't have to stuff them into a suitcase), Hanukkah is on its way out (I'll light eight candles tonight), and, well, I just don't feel festive. My neighborhood is filling up with lighted houses, and they all look wonderful, and when I'm out in the evening, I love seeing them. But . . .

Laying low, reading, thinking . . . maybe this is the state of being we'd all return to if there weren't offices to go to, shopping to tend to, meetings to conduct. Or maybe I'm just in a slump.