Holiday Cheerleader

I have to admit that I was having mixed emotions about embracing this holiday season. I’ll not be enjoying the festivities with my family, as we’ll all be scattered--Betsy in Georgia with her family, Jaime and Dieter (and Saide) hosting my parents in Honduras. I’ve never gone through the motions of decorating the house, shopping/opening gifts, or digging into oyster crackers, fudge or monkey bread without sharing the joy with my immediate family. It’s the lynchpin of all my holiday hubbub. I had toyed with the idea of allowing this season to pass without decorating our flat in Germany; the Brazzells had already decided to forgo the expense of presents...basically, the plan was to just accept the holidays as a non-event this year.

But...

Walking in Hamburg this past Friday, I see the beginnings of the Christmas Markets being put together. I’ve never been a part of this before, but it appears that vendor stalls are being erected along all the major walkways--tents with evergreen and red ribbon, lots of lights and tables just itching to be set up with traditional, homemade wares! Shop keepers have been fanning pine branches, Kinder chocolate Santas have been beckoning Davy and me from their displays at the market...and I made the mistake of “just browsing” through my itunes Christmas listings. That’s what finally made me see the error of my ways; this Grinch got the reality check she needed!

I made a decision to enjoy this season to fullest--to make the most of this Christmas even though it won’t be what I’m expecting. It dawned on me that this was a great opportunity to make new traditions with the family that Davy and I are now! I have no reason to mope--I’m spending the holidays in a Thomas Kincaid painting with the person who makes me happiest. Plus, this may be my chance to finally have a white Christmas...

So: bring on the holly, mistletoe, Muppet Christmas Carol, various sweets, tinsel, overpriced trinkets--the works! I’m ready to curse the lights as I basically use them to strangle my tree...I’m ready to stir up hot chocolate and count the amount of marshmallows I put in both of our glasses. I’m ready to enjoy time with my future in-laws and find out what traditions they may introduce. And I have a feeling I’ll break down and send some care packages to the loved ones I miss so much. In short: Let’s do this.

*I draw the line at Christmas sweaters.

Best Morning EVER!!!

I was sitting Indian-style in front of our huge living room mirror, my hair clipped out of my face and makeup brushes fanned out within reach, when I heard a knock at the door. I am usually extremely nervous to open the door: 1) I don’t speak German and the bulk of people who’ve knocked on the door speak ONLY that, and 2) I was still without my face paint and wearing my cloud patterned flannel pajamas. One peek through the wavy glass panels revealed Davy’s green sweatshirt--this meant his hands were full of breakfast ingredients and he needed assistance... (I ditched the hideous clips that hold back my bangs because even though he's seen me when I'm not at my best, I still want him to find me marginally attractive at the very least.)

Upon opening the door, I see he’s holding a cappuccino for me (the best in the world that they happen to serve at a bakery down the street) and canvas bag of goodies which he quickly handed over. “Wait a second...I just need to get something else”, he said. He went out of sight and quickly returned with something I clearly wasn’t expecting him to bring that morning: a gorgeous bouquet of roses and stargazer lilies in one hand and an open engagement ring box in the other!

He then got down on one knee on the steps of our apartment. “Cyaddie, ye noe how much I loove ye--will ye maddie me?” I was already on the verge of tears and was enthusiastically saying “Yes!” before he even finished the question!

The fact that he managed to surprise me still makes me smile--as does the ring: the round cut diamond in platinum looks like a traditional ring from the top, but a side view reveals a setting which looks Celtic, a nod to his Scottish roots.

The fact that he could take one look at me with no makeup in flannel pajamas and still want to make me his bride makes me know why what we have is made to last!