Hey That’s A Nice Life

Don came up to bed shortly after midnight. “It’s Christmas Eve,” he whispered.  And, in fact, I realized with surprise, it felt like Christmas Eve.

In the refrigerator, chocolate chip cookie dough was chilling overnight.  There are an obscene number of packages under the tree and my parents have yet to arrive to add to the collection.  We bundled up the packages for Don’s family and sent them to Miami.  The tree looks especially lovely (I know, I say that every year). There’s eggnog waiting to be consumed this evening and tomorrow. As I type, a gingerbread cake is cooling in the kitchen.  

There is even - shockingly - snow on the ground. Lots of snow on the ground.

Christmas came fast this year and my enthusiasm for it came slow.  But, it’s arrived.  And I’m welcoming it with open arms. 

Happy Christmas.

Shortly after my birthday last year, I wrote about turning 34 (When I was 34, it was a Very Good Year). I was sentimental about it because I was going to get married the year I was 34.  Everything we did for a whole year, I kept telling myself, happened “the year we were engaged.”  I’m a sap, okay?  I’ve grown accustomed to it and so should you.

Even Don has been mildly impacted by this sentimentality.  Shortly after the wedding, he started pointing out things we did for the first time as a married couple.  Like when we got ready for his birthday party he said, “This is the first time we’ve thrown a party at the house since we were married.”  Considering that we’d been married for six weeks at the time (and two of them were spent on our honeymoon in Costa Rica), it wasn’t too surprising.  A few weeks ago when Don’s family visited, we were sure to point out to one another that it was the first time that Mr. & Mrs. Whiteside had visited Mr. & Mrs. Whiteside … and the first Thanksgiving we’d celebrated as a married couple.

So, I was right when I named that post last year.  When I was 34, it was, in fact, a very good year.

But today I turn 35.  A year older than I was when I got married.  Part of me is a little sad.  My 34th year is going to be pretty hard to top.  Then I think about all the great things our future holds, and I couldn’t be more excited to be 35.  As great as 34 was, I have a feeling 35 is going to be even better.

After a house full of Thanksgiving company and our third trip to Dulles, Don and I decided to head a little further out and cut down our Christmas tree in Middleburg, VA.  This is the third year we have cut a fresh tree and we really enjoy it.  Not only are the tree farms usually in pretty areas and a lot of fun, but the trees last a lot longer.

The tree farm we picked this year had a lot of cute animals.

Like donkeys:

 And goats:

And buffalo:

But, the real reason we were there was to cut down a tree.  We ended up getting a fluffy, long needle tree which is a very different style for us.

As we left, the sun was slipping down beyond the mountains.

 See the pictures from the day on Flickr.