It was a sad Christmas Eve. It was the first one in my entire life we wouldn't be going to my grandmother's to celebrate with my entire family. She had died the March before and a family spat had escalated into an all out war. Some family would be coming over to my house that evening- the second Christmas Eve I had hosted. The year before, hub's first back from Iraq, we had people over after the party at my grandma's broke up, very early thanks to her declining health. This year would be much lower key, still Hub and I were in full clean and prep mode.
I had gone to do the shopping- food and booze- and it took much longer than expected. I came in hevily laden with bags and set them on the steps. The wine bag unfortunately hit on the corner of the step and shattered the bottle of white (at least it wasn't red!) non-alcoholic wine. I was so sad, I wanted that fake wine so badly.
We spent the evening missing grandma and playing games. I'm not a huge fan of the Christmas season- way, way too commercial for my tastes- but Christmas Eve- once the stores are closed and the presents wrapped is wonderful. I love the food, the smells, the tree, the lights, the anticipation of the next day and being with family. I enjoyed the evening.
The talk of the night was how much fun the next year would be.
We hung this ornament.
We had no clue what was lurking.
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