The Christmas holidays – well, the entire month of December – was so crazy busy and disjointed with finishing my first draft of my new book that’s due in March to my editor and then scrambling, literally scrambling like a pan of cracked eggs, to get shopping and decorating done, sing in a zillion Christmas choirs (well, not a zillion but you get the gist), wrap and bake and grocery shop and then cook, cook, cook, and dishes, dishes, dishes, that I never felt like I got to enjoy sitting and gazing at my beautiful tree and just chill out and read a book.
So I did those very things this past week. Sat. Gazed at my beautiful tree. Read a book.
I got up early in the morning while everyone was still in bed, turned on the Christmas lights (yes, my tree is still up because now I’m trying to do a first revision - and panicking pretty much all the time - and haven’t had time to take it down yet. Don't yell at me), turned on the Christmas music (Enya’s Christmas album is very cool) pushed the toys and junk out of the way, wrapped up in an afghan in my jammies and READ A BOOK. For a whole hour! Luxury! Bliss!
I never showed you my gorgeous butterflies that I bought in a little shop in St. Martinville, Louisiana on my trip in November. The shop is called Tres Jolie and the entire second floor is a gorgeous, unique Christmas shop.
I initially bought only the red one along with a few other souvenirs, paid for them, chatted with the owners, left, got in our car – and then turned around and went back into the store and bought the green and gold butterflies as well. I couldn’t resist and I’m so glad. The red butterfly would have looked too lonely all by itself.