The house looks like it always does.
There are mountains of clean laundry piled on chairs throughout the downstairs rooms waiting to be folded. Dishes in the sink that have yet to be stacked in the dishwasher. And there are bits of debris from snacks of toast and crackers strewn about the carpet like confetti that need to be vacuumed.
It’s a different kind of festive this year.
The only things here that are reminiscent of a traditional winter holiday season are a garland of some variety of ever-plastic greenery and a sign wishing all who enter a Merry Christmas. Both of which have managed to lurk in their respective haunts perennially.
The cards, ordered late, have arrived but haven’t been processed for mailing. A single round of holiday baking has occurred, but my resolve to plan more has ebbed.
Ordinarily, we........