home for the holidays

Every time I sat down to write a blog post while I was in Maine, I was interrupted by something else. The something else was always something wonderful. My sister coming down the driveway, a good long chat with my parents, listening to my new CD over and over (with this song on it), a lunch date with my best friend of 23 years, snow falling out the window, an invitation to help trim the tree. Sometimes, interruptions are welcome. Sometimes they are even necessary, perfect, and needed. I intended to spend a good bit of time writing in this blog over the past week. Instead, I spent time crafting {last minute!}, laughing, baking, catching up, taking silly pictures, playing with a crazy cat, and watching movies. I apologize for my absence, but....

Coming to Maine was a breath of fresh air. Just when I needed it most, I stepped off the plane into the crisp cold dark air and knew that I had arrived. In Burnham, Maine I know that I am among my people, and that I am truly home. My Maine home makes me remember, causes me to reflect on what used to be and what now is. Our quirky Christmas traditions are truly ours, and making the annual trek north helps me to realign my compass.

From the {perfectly} imperfect Christmas tree cut from our land and decorated with the same ornaments we have been using for nearly 30 years....

To the popcorn balls that my Mom made......

To the family mascot all dressed up in Santa garb....

To the {extremely} off-key carols we sang during Christmas Eve service at the tiny church down the street...

To eating my favorite 'Maine snack'......

To the most touching moment of the week, when my sister opened her crafted gift from my mother to find that the box contained a gorgeous handmade quilt.....

To the fried partridge (shot by my father this fall) that we ate late one night....

To the mimosas on Christmas morning.....

 

These moments (and many others) made the week for me. From our home to yours, and from Georgia/Maine to wherever you are, Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and I hope the new year brings happiness, health, and a breath of fresh air that realigns your own internal compass.

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I really wish that Tom could have been there. He works 6 days a week during December, and always works on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, so holiday travel is never an option. We sent him a little inspirational picture on Christmas Eve, in hopes that maybe (just maybe!) he could join us in 2011.

{It took some pretty intense engineering to get this shot, and it ended up coming out a bit grainy. If you can't read the sign my sister is holding, it says "Held for Tom 2011...."}