Christmas Day.
It is almost tradition.
The Christmas morning cinnamon rolls have been eaten. Sticky. Smooth sauce is left smeared across our plates, and we have moved on to the second portion of the day...reading. Reading is our family, each enthralled in the newest adventure. A memoir, a historical novel, biography and cookbooks strewn about the living room. It would not be Christmas without this nerdy but intellectual tradition of our family, each in their own spot, ready to curl up for the day.
It is with this, that I am thankful. Thankful, that although Christmas means different things to each in my family, we are joined in this tradition...conscious or not of it's significant place in our holiday. By the end of the day, at least one book will be almost finished, one placed on a shelf for another day, and another left strategically on the coffee table... ready for the next reader to peruse.
