text and image britt-arnhild
Early Sunday morning, the 3rd Sunday of Advent. Snow slowly falling outside, though the winter wonderland is still dark. I have not lit the advent wreath yet, will wait till Terje is up and we have breakfast. Then three purple candles will be shining, to remind us that The Saviour will soon be born.
I am reading your Christmas tales. They take me around to world, they open windows into your precious childhood memories, to Christmases long gone. They are beautiful. We should all write a book about our Christmas memories. For coming generations to cherish. For coming generations to know about how we lived, how we loved, our anticipations, our laughter, and also our sorrows and tears. Not all Christmas memories are good memories.
The House in the Woods is starting to look quite christmassy. 11 angels now hang in the windows, all handmade by my friend Solveig (who runs a wonderful Christmas calendar blog - in Norwegian only), 11 old Chrismas magazines are in a special basket, 11 nativity scenes placed around in the house........and so on. My Advent basket is full every morning and is emptied for its angel, cd, book, snowman, nativity scene, red glass ball, snowglobe and a few other things, after breakfast. When Christmas comes the house is all done, and the purple table cloths and candles will be replaced. With white. Or with red.
We were downtown Christmas shopping yesterday, Terje, Marta and I. We started the day with coffee at the Italian Café, Somma. The gelati counter contained no icecream. Creative, isn´t it :-)
