I dreaded bedtime when I was younger. Not only because the word meant the nearing end of my Nick at Nite marathon, but because “bedtime” also meant hours of tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling and trying to count sheep.
If I could transform the holiday season (steamy mugs of hot cocoa; arms cocooned by wooly sweaters; twinkling white lights against a dark winter sky) into music, it would sound something like this.
Thanksgiving is a holiday that always seems to sneak up on me.
So. I started making a Halloween playlist. Then I just kept going, and made four more.
Twirling around the small space, you reach for a spice in the upper cabinet. You mentally cross your fingers that you’ll find it back there, somewhere.