It's not like this here in the land of the free.
Read that how you want.
But in my house, Christmas preparation is already under way.
I have my Christmas list, and I have begun shopping in earnest. I know what I'm looking for, and as I see the items on sale, I buy them. I bring them home. I take them upstairs to one of the spare bedrooms.
And when I find myself feeling overwhelmed about the state of the world, I go upstairs and I wrap something with great care. I put a ribbon on it. I label it. As I do these things, I imagine, for example, how excited Iris will be to see her dollhouse on Christmas morning (after her father assembles it, of course). Whatever gift I am carefully wrapping, I consider the recipient receiving it. And it makes me happy to think on these pleasant things.
And then I go downstairs, taking that 'happy' with me even after I pull the door shut at the top of the stairs
My happy place.
Excuse the lousy picture. The downfall of a cheap phone.
PS: the truck grill is Tim's. He wanted it something awful. I don't know why.
However, it is his 'happy', and I don't begrudge him.