The Extravagant Days of Christmas

Kotrba Piano Studio Ringing in the Season

Santa Loves one more arena show before college. . . 

A new Glenn Miller book. . . are you kidding me? What could be new?

Kotrba brunch. . . . waffles!

Homemade gifts

Plaid is the new black or pink (Wink)

The gift of music

Magic

Waiting his turn for the feast

Another jellycat bunny? I thought we had them all. 

Cheerful kid

Josie will never fill Katie's shoes but she tries hard

Cousins forever

Winter walk

Grandaddy's message lives on

The twelve days of Christmas.
They were bookended by meals with treasured friends. Huge meals.
In the middle? More meals. Two whole bottles of champagne. Ham balls. Lasagna. A metric ton of Christmas cookies and caramels. Raclette. Homemade ice cream with homemade hot fudge. Five cows worth of cheese.

Twelve days of feasting.
And giving gifts.
Homemade gifts.
Gifts of music.
Stocking stuffers.
Simple gifts.
Extravagant gifts.

My love of all things Christmas lives on even as I contemplate the millennial trend for less materialism and simplification and minimalism and all things less and less. Virtuous? Yes. I can go there, especially on New Year's Day, with my overwhelming urge to have my socks lined up in their drawer and when everyone gets a spinach smoothie for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Less is virtuous. Self control is virtuous.
But I still believe in extravagant grace. Extravagant celebration of God with us.
Extravagant Christmas.

My husband gave me an extravagant gift. For Christmas. For my fiftieth birthday in two weeks. For our 20th wedding anniversary. He said, we have a lot to celebrate.

There have been, and there will be again, seasons of grief. The young become the old. Sam came home from college and soon it will be Calvin. The future will bring it's own set of blessings and losses, challenges and change. I spent half my childhood Christmases worrying about what would happen when my sister left for college--when my grandparents would pass away. Okay, more than half. Yes, I was that kind of child. Those things did happen. And boyfriends came and went with broken hearts. But also. . marriage proposals were made and accepted, babies were born and new friends were made. Years and years of late night arrivals and tearful goodbyes. Snowy roads. Candlelight church services. Rounds of stomach bugs. Traditions are kept and broken, all punctuated by the twelve days of Christmas each year.

Last night Calvin donated over $1000 to Feed My Starving Children, with Mary, Annika and Amelia looking over his shoulder. We drove over to the warehouse but they were closed--so although handing over a huge stack of cash and counting it out next to the FMSC cash register is very satisfying, we typed in a credit card number online, so we could get the matching gift that expired yesterday. We are still accepting donations and still have a couple CDs left! Thank you to O'Briens too, who graciously contributed their time, energy and love into the project.

Extravagant donations. To whom much is given much will be expected.

Twelve extravagant days.
An acceptable level of ecstasy.
I'll not apologize even as I return to semi-normal levels of discipline and self-control.
We have a lot to celebrate, God is with us, friends and family are with us, love is with us.