As God Is My Witness

An amazing sunset tonight here in Atlanta: the sky flaming red and dark pink, textured by clouds like so many rags wrung and laid twisted to dry. All that was missing was Scarlett O'Hara, fist raised and vowing to never go hungry again.

Treasure

My older nephews and I have been geocaching together for years, and now that my youngest nephew, Richard, is four, he wants in on the treasure hunting. It seemed like a perfect holiday afternoon activity to take a walk to the park and look for a cache that is hidden there. Over the years, we've found almost a hundred caches, and it's safe to say that we find what we're looking for more often than not, so it was a confident party of seven who set out between opening our stockings and the big holiday dinner. The cache we were after was only rated one out of five stars for challenge, and I was expecting a quick and successful initiation for Richard into this fun pastime.

Long story short, we couldn't find the treasure, and he was a little disappointed, as we all were. We promised to look again tomorrow when the light was better, but as we were walking home in the gathering darkness, Treat and Richard were ahead together on the path. "Hey guys," I heard Treat say. "I found the treasure!"

Richard stopped dead in tracks, his eyes open wide. "He's just teasing you," I told him.

"No really," Treat continued, and before I could scold him, he said, "The treasure was inside me all the time-- it was friendship!" He was kidding, but his voice was so sweet and sincere that I had to play along.

"Friendship and the love of family, right?" I asked him.

"Right," he confirmed, and we all walked on together toward the lights of home.

Comfort and Joy

Thirty seconds until Christmas, and I find myself furiously typing to meet a self-imposed deadline. No excuse to miss even a single day, and what a day it's been. From the first cup of coffee in my sister's kitchen this morning to the finishing touches on the easel we put together for Santa to bring to my niece in the morning, it has been a busy day spent with family preparing for the feast tomorrow, and the nicest thing about it all is that my whole family will wake under the same roof in the morning and rise to celebrate the day. We'll catch our breaths and remember that this is what all the fuss has been about.

Writers Watch

The other night we were watching a re-run episode of Bones. It was a case involving a vintage arcade game and an autistic boy, and at one point, the main character, Dr. Brennan, noticed that the victim had been killed in the exact same manner as the monkey is dispatched on the final level of the game. When the plot reached its climax, and the murderer was revealed, that fact was insignificant. A red herring? Maybe, but I don't think so. Ever since I've been dabbling in writing that novel, I've found that I'm more aware, and usually more appreciative, of how writers develop their plots. It happens when I read, and when I watch TV and movies, too. It's like some kind of literary spidey sense. Anyway, regarding the Bones episode? I have a tingling that they changed the ending. The only way the detail about the killing makes sense is if the culprit was going to be the kid, but who thinks an autistic child murderer is good TV? Much better if his dad did it instead, right?

May this Message Find You Well

A holiday card today from a former colleague-- it was one of those annual update letters. Turns out that in the last year she's started homeschooling her children. Why does this seem like the ultimate betrayal from a former public school teacher?

I know. It's complicated.

In Praise of Snow Days

What a cliche to say that the holidays are hectic, and yet, although I vow every year to simplify and scale back, the logistics of coordinating with family and friends in eight states makes it tough.

The other night Ellen brought a piece about holiday shopping and materialism to our writing group, and in discussing it we agreed that even in this economic downturn all of us are lucky enough to have everything we need and most of what we want. The next day, Ellen and I were talking, and she made the point that there are very few true luxuries left. For example, shrimp used to be a big splurge when we were kids, but now aquacultural farms in Asia make it very affordable. It's a similar situation with shoes and jeans and shirts and even furniture. Like many in the American middle class, we replace things when they are out of style, or when we're tired of them, not when they wear out, and we run out and buy whatever we "need" whenever we "need" it.

What can you give the person who is fortunate enough to live with such plenty? Holiday shopping becomes a challenge, and so we exchange lists and then gifts, or cut out the first step and give gift cards. It feels like something is lost in this practical arrangement, but the alternative is to give more stuff, perhaps as unwanted as it is unneeded.

I don't know what the solution is to our stuff addiction. When I started this entry I only wanted to say what a blessing the last couple of days have been-- the weather has kept us home, slowing that seemingly inevitable hectic holiday pace, and allowing us to relax and enjoy the season.

Questions that Must Be Answered

Why won't dogs poop in the snow?

Corollary: What happens to dogs when they don't poop in the snow?