Christmas in Gilbertsville

There was no tinsel. No ornaments. No beautiful table covered in brocade and piled high with treats. There was a card table, camp chairs, and a plug-in tree perched on a milk crate. It was our first Christmas in our new house, and it was splendid.

This little evening get-together felt more special than Christmas has felt in quite awhile. I think "special" is something kids are so very gifted at, and with no kids in either family just yet, we grown-ups are left to flounder at "wonderment" and "glee." Holidays are supposed to be a lesson in gratitude, in gasping and feeling lucky. Counting and celebrating our blessings. Sitting with my husband and my parents, eating cheese and crackers in the warm and hope-filled shell of our new house, I was completely and eye-brimmingly grateful.

But the biggest blessing of all was being surrounded by the sort of people who enjoy a card-table Christmas, with a plug-in tree perched on a milk crate.

The next day, our heads cleared of drippy gratitude and hope, we settled back to work. Because hopin' ain't a-gonna get you nowhere, if you've got a house to fix.

We pulled a rug. I pulled tack strips and many staples (and many more to go). Patrick painted a room. We painted MORE TRIM. We got home yesterday evening, and sat with plates of salad at Ruby Tuesdays talking about our progress. Calculating goals. Deciding how to spend our shiny new Home Depot gift cards.

It was a really good Christmas.

Hope yours was as well, everyone.