色控传媒

Don鈥檛 rush to judgement on this, but every night since Christmas I鈥檝e gone to bed with Geddy Lee, the lead singer of Canadian rock band Rush.

I began writing this column from my bed a week ago, propped up with pillows, tucked between my flannel polar bear sheets and my duvet.

Monday mornings are sacred to me, much like Sundays are for most.

No, I didn鈥檛 get a Toyota 4Runner. Yes, I鈥檓 angry about it. Sure, I鈥檒l get over it, eventually.

Oh my goodness, we鈥檙e getting close now. Christmas is right over there. I can feel it.聽

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that I took care of the contents of my own stocking, because the Carpenter wouldn鈥檛 dare (it still rhymes).

Hey Santa, I thought you and I聽 had something special.聽

There are two things I will experience every Christmas season without fail: mixed nuts and mixed emotions.

It鈥檚 fair to say that when it comes to communication by text (or any other form of written conversation, or like, conversation in general), my spouse, the Carpenter, is monosyllabic.聽

I don鈥檛 know if you can read the joy in this column. I can鈥檛 convey it accurately with words, but I want you to feel it, experience it and share it with me when you read the following statement. Ready?聽

I can鈥檛 tell you how long it鈥檚 been since I walked through the door of the church I was christened in, but when I saw the sign outside saying 鈥淥pen for Prayer,鈥� it was an invitation I felt called to accept.聽

I didn鈥檛 want another device.聽

I always smile when I see a man in a store holding the purse of the woman he鈥檚 with, while she tries on clothes or flips through the racks.聽

As my Grampa Jack used to say, 鈥淭he world is going to hell in a handbasket.鈥澛�

Sometimes, the only way to get something done around my house is to ask my husband, the Carpenter, if he would like me to go ahead and start the project without him.