All cinnamon-bun-making dishes are washed and put away.
The kids are either home again or planning their homeward route around floods and tornado debris. It is quieter here in the Hobbit House after such a sweet yuletide. There are still Katie’s chickens to feed, a few cats to check in on, and a rain forest to simulate for John’s gecko, Phil. Snow has finally fallen on the Flint Hills.
We’ve laughed so much that I’m sure we’ve worked some of the Christmastide calories off.
In this quiet at-home morning, I am reminded of the clamor…the rush of a few days ago when folks were scrambling for last minute gifts. It makes my stomach hurt just thinking about it. Fortunately, our only “last minute gifts” were found in the Dusty Bookshelf and included a Ron Burgundy book I purchased for Kenan because I wanted to and not because I “had to.” We moseyed at our own pace amid the piles of books and people with nothing but time to open and inspect each paper-bound adventure. And there began the best of last minute gifts.
Time. Family. Relaxed goofiness while the world whizzed past with lists and some freaking out.
We did not freak out. We played K-Stateopoly on the board I purchased for Kenan just after 9/11 – so worn that we may need 100-mile-an-hour tape to repair it soon. You’ll be happy to know the Konza prairie (usually Mediterranean Avenue) has been preserved and funded for perpetuity (at least for that game).
We made Christmas dinner by committee and it was the best meal among the best people and with the finest view of the Flint Hills. The day was delicious and the product of each person who sat around that table. Our Noel included world-class napping and congratulations over a new career adventure for Z and M.
Evenings included shoe-horning into the Hobbit House for rest and a wrestling with the giant pup for space.
We piled into a caravan and visited my sis and her family a few towns away to the sweetest of abundant welcome. K bundled up for a KC Chiefs win with his dad.
I couldn’t ask for more.
Except I will. I will ask for more last minute gifts of family and joy and hard conversations and peace-making and bundling up to visit folks we love.
I will ask for time and LEGO mornings and the smell of cinnamon buns, coffee, conversation, craft beer, and the best people around the table. I’ll even take carbon/gas tax around the K-Stateopoly game.
But not just at Christmas. In the words of old Scrooge, let us “honour Christmas in (our) heart(s), and try to keep it all the year… live in the Past, the Present, and the Future.”
And with the wind and rising waters so many have encountered this yuletide, I am reminded this is a short life. It is up to us to make it wide.
Merry Merry, friends. Let’s live with love and derring do.