Today, we decide to do absolutely nothing.  Well, besides go to the pizza place to upload these posts and to catch up on e-mails.  Oh, and stop at our favorite cappuccino place.  And pick up some more cereal and milk and yogurt.  And spend the evening reading and talking.

It was an all-around lovely day.  A time-out from why we’re here.

So, today, I give you the picture that Dan took early on when we first arrived at our apartment.  He said, “It just looks sad.  A remnant of a happier time, don’t you think?”

Yes.  The metaphor isn’t absolutely perfect, however; I don’t feel like we’re completely lacking in joy…after all, we’re fortunate to have each other, and we’re healthy.  And there’s a whole lot of happiness in that.

Maybe it’s that we’re waiting for a certain type of Christmas…or prolonging the Christmas that already is.

It’s like the year I kept the Christmas tree up until Valentine’s Day.  Yes, I know.  Sad, isn’t it?  But since my family didn’t celebrate Christmas growing up (at least with all the trimmings of Christmas), I wanted to maintain the anticipatory joy as long as possible that year.  There was something about coming home from a long day at work and curling up in a room all aglow and pinpricked with lights.  It’s the same feeling I get when I’m at the beach for a day–that tired, contented lulling from the waves rushing up on shore.  It’s the same feeling I get sitting in front of a fireplace.  It’s a hypnotic kind of quiet.

There’s hope yet.  We think an extra child will pop up somewhere in the system.  She has to.