I know it's not technically winter, but, it is, for all intents and purposes. It's got to be Thanksgiving that brings fall to its effective end. The days are short these days, but my Christmas shopping is done, so we spend our evenings chilling out and occasionally taking Edie for walks to our town center where she gasps up at the lights strung on trees and says, "Look at that!"
Which feels like a nice way to spend December. Every year I try to focus on really getting something out of Christmas, which feels to me like trying to remember a dream: the harder I try, the more success evades me. So, now my approach is anti-Christmas in pursuit of Christmas. I choose, very carefully, the seasonal things I want to fill my days with. I will make a wreath at my church's activity tomorrow, I won't bake any cookies to take or take any home with me. I will go to the Christmas in Salem tour of historic homes, but I probably won't get a tree we won't be around on Christmas day to enjoy. That kind of thing.
I suppose I will finish my book for book club, Skipping Christmas, which, I'm about 3/4 of the way through and is so stupid I could just die. But, I failed to finish a lot of books for this book club, and I no longer have a thesis as a viable excuse, and, really, I am almost done. So, okay, I will finish it. But I won't enjoy it.