The 1878 Christmas Of 2022 in anticlimatic

I believe that happiness is mostly synthetic, self-generated based on at least partially conscious decisions, but random chance of course plays an unavoidable role- and I’d like to acknowledge how fortuitous it was for us, here, that we ended up snowed in for Christmas. I’m certain it was a nightmare for many, anyone obligated to travel long distances, but I went from not even noticing that Christmas was a few days away to absolutely drowning in the old time feel of Yule.

A snow drift had barricaded our front door shut by the morning of Christmas eve, so my girlfriend and I baked a holiday gingerbread loaf and snacked on it all weekend while listening to carols and working on holiday themed puzzles in between naps and various holiday drinks ranging from hot chocolate to hot rum to mini cans of coke. At one point we bundled up in our winter best, and went across the street down to the river for some old fashioned snow play, and followed that up with a stroll to the corner store for eggs so that we could do a proper warm breakfast on Christmas proper. After dark we watched the new sequel to A Christmas Story, which I found very moving especially the very ending, and in the morning we slept in- nowhere to go, all extended family plans canceled due to weather- and exchanged gift stockings over coffee.

A rather pleasant and intimate interlude from the usual meat grinder of existence. I wouldn’t mind a Christmas like this last one every year.