We had Christmas on Saturday.

I realize that Saturday was but the 12th of December.  Still, we had Christmas.

We sometimes have Christmas on a day other than the real thing.  Because three of our children will be elsewhere come the 25th.

At their dads.  They’ll be at their dads.

So we pick a day and we call it Christmas.  And it’s not ideal, I know.  But it works for us.  Because it has to.  Every other year.

We had cinnamon rolls.  Egg casserole.

We opened gifts.  Stockings.

We spent the day playing: Scrabble, indoor bowling, Leapster.

It was a good day.

A family day.

A great day.

Albeit early.

Sunday was good too.

Church.  And then girls day out.  Torri and Kennedy and I hit the mall for a movie. New Moon.  Before this movie I can’t say that I’ve ever sat in a theater knowing the movie was about to end, but wishing it wouldn’t.  I did that today.

And then they hit a couple of stores, to make good use of those gift cards.

It’s weird because it seemed to me like all of the Christmas decor was expired.  But it wasn’t.  Because the rest of the world is still looking forward to Christmas day.

Kind of like when the mail lady brought a package to the door yesterday (on our Christmas) and for a moment I was shocked that she was at work.

Oh yeah.  Christmas isn’t here yet.

You’ll have to keep reminding me; I have Christmas events yet to come.

Jeff’s company Christmas party this week.

Baking.

And then the real thing.

These “off” Christmas years do have a silver lining in that by the time the real Christmas rolls around we’ve gotten all of the less important stuff out of the way and we can focus fully on the the one true king.  The real reason for the season.

For that I am thankful.

The real Christmas will be quiet around here.  Joyful.  Reflective.

Our focus will be where it belongs.

And that–I believe–is a gift in itself.

I hope yours is just as merry.

There is a train up in Northern Arizona that operates year-round, making trips to and from Grand Canyon.  During the holiday season the train undergoes a bit of a transformation and–with the help of Christmas magic–becomes the Polar Express.  It sells out early in the year, and tickets can be hard to come by.

It is for that reason that I was incredibly excited to have been one of the lucky June planners who scored tickets for the whole family.

Last Thursday we left home en route for Phoenix, where we enjoyed dinner out and spent the night in a hotel.  After breakfast on Friday morning we kicked off our little holiday celebration with a trip to see Disney’s A Christmas Carol in 3-D.  There were a few parts where Jayce was a bit scared, but the bucket’o'popcorn in his lap helped to distract him.

After the movie we drove the rest of the way up to Flagstaff.  After a hearty dinner at Cracker Barrel we were on our way, golden tickets in hand.  The further north we went the more the temperature dropped.  And by the time we had reached our destination I was hesitant to get out of the car because temperatures below freezing don’t suit me well.  I sucked it up though, and we all threw our heavy coats on over our PJ’s (as is traditional attire for the Polar Express) and headed for the depot.

It was tough to get good pictures because of the lighting and the unwillingness of anybody in my family to pose for long stretches of time in the freezing air.  Can’t say I blame ‘em.

The arrival of the train was announced over the loudspeaker and we took our places in line to board.  We were greeted by attendants wearing white chef coats and hats, just like they do in the movie.  As soon as everybody was seated they played the song about the “hot, hot, hot, cocoa” and came through the car passing out cookies and hot chocolate.  Cassidy would have been pleased as punch if that had been all there was to it.  But there was much more in store for us.

We made a short journey to the North Pole, which had been festively decorated with lots of twinkly holiday lights.  Santa could even be seen waving from his sleigh full of toys.

And then the train stopped, and went in reverse.  When we passed back by the sleigh, Santa had disappeared.  He didn’t go far though; he boarded the train!

On the way back to the station the attendants walked the aisles showing pictures from the Polar Express book, as a read-aloud version played on the loudspeaker.  Once the book had been read, we sang carols from a songbook that had been provided for us.  And once we sang loud enough, the jolly guy himself made his way through the car handing out special gifts for all the children who believed.

It was really cute.  And hopefully will make for a lasting memory for all the kids, even the big ones! ;)

Oh ye of little faith.  Whatdya mean you didn’t think I’d post today?  Sheesh.  Give a girl some street cred would ya?  I mean, just because I posted for thirty-one straight days in a row doesn’t mean that I’m going to use that as an excuse to suddenly disappear and leave you all waiting on bated breath to see what is going on in my little corner of the desert.  I mean really, what kind of blogger do you think I am?

Now that we have that straightened out I have something to tell you.

I may be scarce for the next few days.

What?

I’ve got places to go.  People to see.  Flights to catch.

That’s right.  I’m a regular world traveler these days.

I’m headed back to… (go ahead, guess).

If you guessed Orlando, you’d be right.

But first the family is headed to Northern Arizona.  We’ve got golden tickets for the Polar Express.  This will be the first year we’ve done it and I’m just a touch excited.  Maybe not so much excited about the forecasted high of 35 (yes that was THIRTY-FIVE degrees Fahrenheit).  Seriously.  Thirty-five?  In Northern Arizona?  You’d think we’d entered the Tundra or something.  But no, I’m not excited for the cold.  I’m excited for the sight of the train chug, chug, chugging into the station.  And making the short trip up to the North Pole with my family.

And then I’m leaving on a jet plane en route to Florida (where the high better be at least double what it is in Northern Arizona).  I get to meet the new Moms!  Of course, seeing the castle all aglow in thousands of twinkly lights ain’t so bad either.

But I’ll be home soon enough.

With pictures.

Pinky swear.

There are photo books yet to be designed.

Cards to address.  Stamp.  And ultimately mail.

More shopping to be done.

And the wrapping.  Oh the wrapping.

Cookies to be made: a half dozen different kinds.

Fudge to be devoured.

Christmas stories to be read.

Garland to string.

Mistletoe to hang.

Eggnog to sip.  {Heavy on the brandy pretty please}.

Fancy Christmas clothes.

Photos.

Maybe even a party or two.

I’m forgetting something.  I just know it.

Oh yeah.  I’m making Kelly’s chocolate covered pretzels for the bus drivers this year.  Add that to the list.

Sigh.

It’s officially December.

The countdown has begun.

The hurry-up, no-time-to-waste, gotta-get-it-done countdown.

The one that leaves little time for what matters most.

For reflecting on the reason for the season.

For just being.  With the ones I love.

For breathing out.

For twinkly lights.

For savoring.

Sipping.

Roasting.

Smiling.

Toasting.

Things worth squeezing in.

I’ll bet I can fit them in somewhere.

And I hope you will too.

Recipe for a fabulous holiday weekend:

• Enough turkey, dressing, and sweet potatoes to require changing into stretchy pants.
• Leftovers.  Plenty ‘o’ leftovers.
• Family.  Preferably not the Griswald rocket toilet variety.  But beggars can’t be choosers.
• Shopping.  Shopping is good.  Doing so in place of sleep?  Eh.  Not so much.
• Knocking out the Christmas shopping though?  Score.
• Shiny ornaments, scented candles, and mistletoe.
• From-scratch hot chocolate.  With gads of whipped cream.
• Not a lick of exercise.  In spite of the gads of whipped cream.
• Sleeping in.
• Scrabble.
• Jewel singing Winter Wonderland.
• Brandy-spiked hot apple cider.
• Squeezing five-wide onto the couch to watch UP!
• Writing off Black Friday shopping for next year.  And every year thereafter as long as I shall live.  Amen.
• Substituting cheesy blog posts for those with real content because I’m too busy cooking up a fabulous holiday weekend.

Am I missing anything?

You know those crazy people who don’t bother letting something as petty as sleep get in between them and the great Black Friday deals to be had?

Yeah…count me among them.

I don’t go it alone though.

I’ve recruited accomplices.

Don’t ‘tsk tsk’ at us though; we’re not the trampling type.

We’re more the tap-politely-on-the-horn type.

Hopefully that won’t be necessary this go ’round.

Pfft.

Who do I think I’m kidding?

It’s a jungle out there.

Wish us luck…

to you and yours.

It starts innocently enough.  At Cracker Barrel usually.  You stop in for biscuits and sweet tea in early October and you notice the nativity scene display.

Okay.

Then Target joins in.  Halfway through October they clear all of the masks and plastic daggers out of a back aisle to make room for twinkling lights and giant scarf-clad skiing polar bears.

Eh.

Thanksgiving creeps closer and you head to Michaels in search of a cornucopia for your dining room table.  You walk through the doors when what to your wondering ears do you hear, but the sound of Jingle Bells spreading premature Christmas cheer.

Whatever.

Oh friends.  I wish I could leave it that.  But I can’t.  Not by a long shot.

Because do you know what I saw yesterday, when I rounded a corner to head into our cul-de-sac?

I saw a wreath.  With lights.

And a freakin’ reindeer.

Kid. you. not.

I mean really.  C’mon people.

It’s one thing if you live in snowy Michigan or frigid Wisconsin.

But we don’t.

We live in the desert.  Where the temperature just barely dipped below 80 this week.

And suddenly reindeer pop up on the rockscape lawns of the neighbors?

Not to mention the ceiling dangling and window cling-on paper snowflakes at Target.  Which, by the way, put me in the exact opposite of the Christmas spirit when they appeared two weeks ago.  The day after Halloween mind you.

But at least they have motive.  You know, to sell stuff.

Our neighbors?

No motive.

They may just have earned themselves a door prize though.

Because a couple of weeks ago I listed some Christmas yard art on Craigslist.

Namely a giant scarf-clad, skiing polar bear.  And a slightly less obnoxious ice skating snowman.

Craigslisters aren’t interested apparently.

Can’t blame them.

We never would have bought them in the first place had our girls not guilted us into it.

But that guilt has run its course my friends.

And my husband is tired of housing those perennially festive friends in our garage.

So he’s proposed a good deed.  {A long shot if you ask me}.

He wants to “gift” our festive friends to an unsuspecting neighbor.  Sort of like signed, sealed, delivered – they’re yours.  Only with out the signed and sealed part.

He thinks it’d be amusing to sneak in under the cover of night and set them up – plugged in and everything.

I tend to agree.

What?

You know that’d be funny.

And, based on our neighbor’s enthusiasm for the season, he thinks they’re prime candidates.

I’d prefer someone who didn’t live, well, the next house over.  Two streets down is more my style.

Although the early November reindeer propped on their lawn sways me.

So.  Whatdya think?

Should we dare?

Earlier this week I was trying to be the 9th caller in a radio contest, the prize of which was a fly-away to NYC to see John Mayer in a private concert.

I was intoxicated with the idea of a private John Mayer concert in NYC.  In no small part because I tend to turn to putty in the hands of John Mayer’s voice.  Not that his voice has hands.  But if it did, I might be inclined to let them get to at least second base.

So anyway.  I didn’t win.  And as I was pouting over the not winningness, my hero of a husband said something that prompted me to drop the tortilla I was busy frying and turn to him with the big doe eyes that I can’t help but put on when his sweet factor increases tenfold.

You want to know what he said?

He half mumbled, “probably saved our marriage.”

You know.  Because had I won the private concert, John Mayer would have been powerless against my beauty.  So much so that–once his eyes met mine–he’d have been unable to complete his set.  He’d have let his guitar fall to the ground and he’d have pulled me up on stage into a passionate embrace.  He’d have instantly dropped his latest A list movie star girlfriend and begged me to leave my husband and family and hit the open road with him.

Because, you know, I’m all that.  And a bag a’ chips.

Or.  Not.

The point, though, is that my husband thinks I am.  And he lets me know it.  Every single day.

The feeling is mutual by the way; I often wonder how I lucked into him.

A man who preemptively brings me a blanket because he knows I’ll need it.

A man who cuts the raw chicken every night because he knows it makes me squeamish.

A man who invents board games for our family weekend in the mountains.

A man who worked to acquire a taste for wine so that we could enjoy wine tasting events.  Together.

A man who fiercely defends his family when we need defending.

A man who works just as hard at home as he does on the job.

A man who brings me laughter, peace, security, friendship, and confidence.

A man who both grounds and frees me.  All at the same time.

So thankful, I am, for this man.

So in awe of him I remain.  So inspired by.  So in love with.

Happy birthday man of mine.

And PS. {Ain’t nobody turning this head of mine.  John Mayer included.}

I was a busy worker bee today – putting the finishing touches on the fall decorations and taking pictures for this post.  Not to mention making granola and granola bars and homemade bread for the week.  Those things, together with the plazillion scented candles, have our house smelling heavenly.  You’ll have to take my word on that part.  The decorations though? Those I can show you.  As promised.  I hope you don’t mind taking your shoes off though – the dust does a real number on our concrete floors.

Right this way then.  Here’s a little glimpse of what Autumn look like in the desert.

This last one isn’t really a fall decoration.  But I came across it and thought I’d show you the place cards we made for Thanksgiving last year.  Cute, no?

Yeah, so there you have it.  Our humble abode in all its Autumn glory.  I’m finding it pretty cozy myself.  So much so that if you’ll excuse me I’m going to slip into my pj’s and meet my husband on the couch for our weekly Amazing Race date.

If you’re looking for a bit more decor inspiration though, click on over to the Hooked on Houses fall tour.  That’s where my motivation came from.  Oh.  And be sure to invite me if you post your own decorations – I’d love to see them!