Gifts and plans and people—and holiday spirit. (And who sent me the cat ears?)

Oh dear sweet world, and the wonderful people in it—

Today I opened the mail to find my tickets for the train ride to visit century_eyes (why Amtrack mails you physical printed tickets I don't know, but who cares—they're here! and hardly a moment too soon) and a box of black-on-black Tachi Ears which I will admit I have already opened and cooed over. Whoever sent the latter, speak up that I may properly heap praise upon you! For they are glorious, and I love them, and shall commence finding many ways to wear them. You have made this kitten very happy.

In a few minutes I'll finish getting ready and then go visit my parents to light candles on the last night of Hanukkah*. I think we're opening presents then too (look at me, scrambling last minutes for dates), but whenever it is there will be dark skies and candles, there will be gifts. This year I find myself quietly content with what I've gotten everyone—I hope they will be too.

And then after candles, after gifts, (and after another day has passed because wow has my schedule gone screwy!) I wake up early and set off towards century_eyes, and perhaps sisterite as well (and even if not, I shall wave in her general direction from not-so-afar), and to meet other good folks while I'm there.

When I get back we celebrate my father's birthday. And then, of course, the cruise from hell—but never mind that.

Because usually, for so many reasons, the spirit of this season has to be forced upon me, by myself or others, coming late and only begrudgingly. This year, my darlings, I feel it. It doesn't matter the hows or whys or even the timing. I'm happy, and cheerful, and warm, against the long nights and constant creeping rain. I love it. I love all of you.

* Dear Hanukkah— Why is your time so difficult to figure out,even after all these years? Love anyway, me.