It is really hard to write an update when you're watching one of your favourite shows. Even when it's the third time in the last six months that you've seen it. Jamie finally caved and agreed to watch Firefly
a few weeks ago, and we've made it to the second-to-last episode. (Which right now is breaking my heart a little bit. Poor Inara. And that whole conversation about Wash and Zoe's baby. Damn you, Fox! Damn you to hell! And damn you a little bit too, Joss.)
Time is speeding by at its usual break-neck pace for this time of year, and I'm trying to get my brain around the fact that it's two weeks till Christmas. And as the clock crosses over to midnight, that's quite precisely the case.
The weather is not helping. It's unseasonably warm here at the moment - we've had several days of double digit (Celcius) temperatures, and the snow is virtually all gone. Ice lingers in the shadows, but Christmas lights reflect onto damp grass, their colours dulled without the reflection to dance on.
Moments catch me and remind me of the season - a carol, familiar but always welcome, a child lit up at the sight of a Christmas tree, the perfect present for someone arriving in the mail, a card on the mantle - but it hasn't yet permeated my days. Christmas is nearby, but it doesn't quite feel like it's here yet. I don't know what it will take - perhaps the first descant note I sing on Monday will be enough. Maybe it'll be the gingerbread men we're decorating with our niece and nephew next Saturday. It could be Christmas Tree shopping, with Jamie and my dad, going to visit not-Ed at Ed's Trees.
Or, more likely, it'll be something I don't expect, something that catches me off guard and reminds me of the season. Christmas Cheer tends to sneak up on me, and although I know the things that bring it each year, it's the cheer I find in unexpected places that I like best.