Good morning! Yesterday I found out I made a good grade on the law exam I took recently and when I opened my paycheck yesterday afternoon, I discovered I had been given a raise. So I'm splurging on breakfast at the coffee shop near my apartment this morning to celebrate.
The coffee shop is buzzing. Christmas music is dripping from the speakers. Occasional shouts from the barista indicate a drink is ready. The only place with an open outlet is behind the men's table: a table of six men in their eighties. They are discussing sports, politics, and hunting. (I may or may not be eavesdropping and immensely enjoying their conversation.)
I can't believe today is December 1st. My favorite months are June and October, but I kind of enjoy December, too. December is magical. Wreaths hang on lamp posts downtown, soup suddenly becomes thebestfoodonearth, the ice skating rink opens, and boutiques are covered in gorgeous holiday decorations (examples: white glittery Christmas trees, bold ornaments hang from the ceilings, gold pine cones pile up in glass bowls). And then there are the lights. Bright white lights cover the trees downtown. Green and red and silver lights are strung onto people's homes. And if it snows - oh, if it snows - that's too much for me to handle. Even though I am twenty-one years old, I still think snow is one of the most magical things there is.
December is easy. I emerge myself in this month. I soak it up, I drink it in. I love the holidays. But January and February are hard. The beginning of January is nice - a chance to start over - the rest, though is long. And cold. Too cold.
For now, though, I am going to celebrate December. Oh, and get the door for Clarence*, because the men's table is saying their goodbyes until next week.
*While sitting behind their table, I learned Clarence is a 93 year old man who has had a lot of adventures. He uses a walker to get around, but still comes to have coffee with his friends every week. I love it.
**Photo credit: baby sister.
The coffee shop is buzzing. Christmas music is dripping from the speakers. Occasional shouts from the barista indicate a drink is ready. The only place with an open outlet is behind the men's table: a table of six men in their eighties. They are discussing sports, politics, and hunting. (I may or may not be eavesdropping and immensely enjoying their conversation.)
I can't believe today is December 1st. My favorite months are June and October, but I kind of enjoy December, too. December is magical. Wreaths hang on lamp posts downtown, soup suddenly becomes thebestfoodonearth, the ice skating rink opens, and boutiques are covered in gorgeous holiday decorations (examples: white glittery Christmas trees, bold ornaments hang from the ceilings, gold pine cones pile up in glass bowls). And then there are the lights. Bright white lights cover the trees downtown. Green and red and silver lights are strung onto people's homes. And if it snows - oh, if it snows - that's too much for me to handle. Even though I am twenty-one years old, I still think snow is one of the most magical things there is.
December is easy. I emerge myself in this month. I soak it up, I drink it in. I love the holidays. But January and February are hard. The beginning of January is nice - a chance to start over - the rest, though is long. And cold. Too cold.
For now, though, I am going to celebrate December. Oh, and get the door for Clarence*, because the men's table is saying their goodbyes until next week.
*While sitting behind their table, I learned Clarence is a 93 year old man who has had a lot of adventures. He uses a walker to get around, but still comes to have coffee with his friends every week. I love it.
**Photo credit: baby sister.
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