How did the Husband and I celebrate Christmas Eve Day? Why, by putting all the home p0rn we watch to good use and rehopolstering the dining room chairs. I only took pictures of the first one, but the each chair was a marked improvement from the last.

Happy Hanukkah to all and to all a Happy Hanukkah!

Hanukkah always seems like a tricky holiday. Where do the presents go when there is no convenient Christmas tree to lay them under? I remember when I was very young, my parents would have the Sister and I sit on chairs in the living room, close our eyes, and put our hands out. After a few moments, a gift would then be placed in our open hands. Being as well trained as we were at such a young age, we would wait until told to open our eyes. Then in our tiny hands would be whatever trifle we wanted. When I was five or so and our presents began getting bigger, our gifts were wrapped and placed around a chair, out of the way, until Hanukkah began.

I grew up one of a handful of Jews in a small, and very Christian town, and being the only jew in my grade I was often held up as an example or questioned as the resident expert. In kindergarten, our teacher told our class all about Hanukkah and how some Jews have a Hanukkah bush. As would become the pattern future me would experience over and over, she then turned to me, the resident expert. “Does your family have a Hanukkah Bush?” she asked. “No,” I said in my ancient 5 year-old wisdom, “We have a Hanukkah Chair.” The chair changes, but the tradition remains.

This year I received a beautiful quilt made by a friend from work. She may demure and claim that a “real quilter would laugh at it” but I see no flaws. It is made with straight lines and crisp edges and truly beautiful colors. I am unbelievably honored that I received this gift from such an interesting woman. I brought it home and the Husband found the perfect place to display it…on the Hanukkah Chair.

I love living in the North East. We have seasons, very few earthquakes and tornadoes, and I don’t need to go anywhere to admire the changing leaves. In fact, on my twenty-minute drive to work, I get to admire the leaves changing every day until the trees are bare and snow is on the ground. I believe that I am very lucky to experience this so easily. Except, of course, when I must rake the fallen leaves or be buried alive underneath.

And that’s exactly what we did for most of Saturday. Rake. And rake and rake and rake and rake. The neighborhood has a truck that comes along once a week and vacuums up the leaves so all we need to do is move the leaves to the edge of the road. The pile was easily two feet tall and sadly, we’re not technically done. But we have a lawn again.

Unless, of course, the wind has since blown the leaves back on to the lawn. That would not be fun.