What a cool yule get-together my friend Amanda attended at her neighbor's house. "Be there at 8:30 am," the invitation said, "and a reading aloud of Truman Capote's A Christmas Memory will begin promptly at 9." What joy to attend story time as a grown-up. To sit in a comfy chair with a treat and just listen to this bittersweet, beautifully-written tale being read aloud. Such an antidote to the holiday milieu. Amanda said it took about 45 minutes and everyone was crying by the end, but that it was a lovely experience. Simple, magical. A tradition I would love to borrow and make my own.
When is the last time you found a personal note peeking out of your mailbox? From someone who gathered paper, pen or laptop (and thoughts) and focused solely on dear, wonderful you? Well, there will always be correspondence to open here. Love letters from life, written just for you.