Lil' Christmassy things we did this year
Even though Florida is far from the winter wonderland of my childhood
Added garlands of colorful poms to our van’s living room and bed area
Sean laughed while using his superior hand strength to properly press in the tacks. Another of many things he does to bring me joy.
Set up my miniature Christmas tree in the kitchen
My earliest holiday memories feature this tree. A foot tall, it used to sit—garishly decorated—on a bedside table in the apple-green room across the hall from my parents. The lights are different now, and no ornaments made it into the van, but the spirit’s the same.
Ordered many peppermint mochas from our favorite local coffee shops
Always hot, even on the already-75-degree mornings. Always caffeinated, even though I know better.
Wore each of my Christmas sweaters multiple times
In high school I accrued a massive collection of “ugly” holiday sweaters. (The wannabe hipster in me, a still-loud corner of my psyche, insists I clarify this was before they were widely available at Targets and Walmarts and even grocery stores.) I’ve kept them all—they’re part of a single bin of miscellaneous stuff my parents let me store in their basement when we moved into Hermes—and brought three with us to Florida this winter.
Sean’s festive sweater was the first gift I ever gave him. Christmas 2018. Before we regularly said “I love you”, before I adopted Scout, before I dreamed of life as it is today… It remains in perfect shape.
Built a sand snowman on the beach
Seashell bras? Nah. Seashell berets, of course.
Savored a tiny peppermint chocolate cupcake over three days
Everything is improved when eaten with a miniature fork or spoon. The smaller the better.
Saw the newest animated The Grinch in the theater
(Also present: a bunch of little kids in pajamas.) Illumination’s The Grinch has quickly become my favorite Christmas movie. I must have seen it nearly a dozen times by now, but Max still makes me laugh and Cindy Lou still brings me to gentle warm fuzzy tears.
We played other movies in the weeks leading up to the holiday on a laptop inside the van: A Charlie Brown Christmas, Love Actually, and a mediocre rom-com that doesn’t merit a shoutout but still provided a few chuckles.
Went to a tiny local Christmas market
When asked if I wanted chocolate drizzle on my hot cocoa, I exclaimed “yes!” with so much enthusiasm that the people behind me in line laughed a little awkwardly. I don’t even eat “fake” syrups like this in the course of regular life—but if you don’t lean into December’s small joys, when will you?
Later, as the live band (three high school students) wrapped up their set, they switched from Christmas carols to Phoebe Bridgers. Sean and I swayed arm in arm, two of the only people left on the block, singing every word to “Motion Sickness”. The drummer looked delighted. I met his grin with my own.
Attempted to make no-bake cookies in the van
Emphasis on attempted. We called it an Adventure, though.
Visited Cocoa Beach’s Surfing Santas event
Bright and early on Christmas eve, we joined thousands of fellow beachgoers decked in varying levels of festive apparel. I wore my holiday dog pajamas—featuring different breeds carrying wrapped presents and strings of lights, donning scarves and earmuffs—and red tree sweater. We watched dozens of Surfing Santas hit the waves.
Cooked steak and rosemary mashed potatoes in the van for Christmas dinner
We cut the bone out of the raw meat first so Scout could have it. Merry Christmas, cattle dog.
Sipped homemade peppermint hot chocolate…
… while watching National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation after dark on the 24th. It was the best cocoa I’ve ever prepared, complete with chocolate shavings atop freshly whipped cream and the absolute perfect amount of peppermint extract (1/8th teaspoon per cup). Sean’s growing tired of me asking “wasn’t that hot chocolate really good?” nearly a full day later.
I was the kid obsessed with Christmas: twinkling lights against fresh snow, cookies cooling on the counter, decor sprawled on every shelf. Even as my Christian faith faded, I still loved lighting candles in church on Christmas eve. I’d close my eyes and feel everyone next to me, our shared voices sounding better than they had any right to in the dark pews, and like Cindy Lou says in The Grinch “all [my] sadness would just go away”.
It’s different this year—more so than any past year—and my moments of holiday spirit have been tinged with melancholy. I’ve felt lonely, sad, ungrateful (then guilty), confused, distant.
I’ve also felt so lucky. Love to you and yours, today and every day.