eurydicebound

It's that time of year again, with the countdown to Christmas beginning. This looks as though it will prove to be one of those Decembers when the Grinch is threatening to prove more prevalent than Santa, when Scrooge is going to be pounding on the door, threatening to take possession of out hearts and worlds with his miserly grasp and flint-hearted ways. It's famine time in my particular freelancer world again, despite working my ass off the past three months to ensure that it didn't get to this state, and feast looks very far away. I have too much work and not enough child care, and today is my twelfth wedding anniversary -- and my husband is away for his monthly drill, so I'm spending it with my kids (who remain blissfully unaware).

Bah Humbug. And yet.

Despite this, I find myself oddly cheerful today. This weekend is dedicated to decorating my mom's house for Christmas. That always brightens my mood, and as I sweep away the clutter and listen to carols and prepare for a proper bedecking, I find myself oddly... content, I suppose, given what I know to be my currently precarious position. It's as though I've found a small and precious shred of grace in an otherwise turbulent time. And I am grateful for it. We are healthy, finances will get better, I /think/ I can still have Christmas for my kids, and the Two Towers comes out this month. Things could be a lot worse.

There are too many things in this world that I can't control; too many things utterly outside my grasp. Typically I spend my time worrying about them anyway, convinced that if I can just plan enough, just work hard enough, I can make it all come out right. Today, by God's grace, I've stopped fighting against the wind and just stopped to enjoy the breeze for a little while.

And you know, I think it smells a bit like Christmas. :)