This is not an exhaustive list, and it’s in no particular order, and some of it is banal and some of it is sacred but I believe that all that stuff is best appreciated when it all lives together, so:<\/p>\n
1.) My iPhone. I know, I know: it’s practically a cliche to love one’s iPhone. But I do love mine. A lot. (My husband loves his equally much. I’d leave you for this<\/i>, he told me the other week. I’m glad that I don’t have to, though<\/i>. I think that he was joking.) If you have one, you know what I’m talking about. If you don’t, well, I’m not going to be able to explain it to you other than to prattle something incoherent about ohmygod soawesome lovelovelovelove<\/i>, so.<\/p>\n
2.)* The DVD of the movie Up. Because<\/a>.<\/p>\n 4.) Every piece of art<\/a> that my kids have created this year. I frame some of it, some of it goes on the fridge, some of it gets tucked into treasure boxes, some of it gets sent to Grandma or Nana, all of it is cherished. We’ll be drowning in paper by sometime mid-February 2010.<\/p>\n 5.) My Natura<\/a> Sleep Envelope. It’s a well-documented fact that I have not slept in an eternity<\/a>. The Sleep 6.)* My Wubby. My wubby is actually a black Little Giraffe chenille throw<\/a> (it was in a gift bag that I received when I won this award<\/a>). 7.) My dad’s hat. Because it still smells like him, and because whenever I look at it it’s like he’s right there. And I think that he is.<\/p>\n 8.) The soundtrack to Glee<\/a>, parts 1 and 2 and also their cover of Last Christmas. Because they remind me of what it felt like to be young and full of Broadway ambitions and Fame<\/i>-addled dreams. And because when my little girl dance to the Glee version of Don’t Stop Believin’<\/i>, the whole world stops and there is only her joy and I am happier than any human has any right to be.<\/p>\n 11.) My Pierre Berton cookbook, discovered and purchased in a St. Vincent de Paul thrift store this spring. The words ‘Pierre Berton’ and ‘cookbook’ and ‘thriftstore’ strung together will probably seem unremarkable to 12.) A sheet of paper with a photocopied passage from Letter 8 of Ranier Maria Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet<\/a>. I found it in my father’s workbag after he died. It was like a message sent to me, from him, straight from heaven.<\/p>\n All of these things<\/a> are valuable to me. Some more than others, obviously – my dad’s hat would be grabbed before the Wubby in the event of fire, for example, the iPhone before the Up DVD, the kids’ artwork before the Pioneer Woman’s cookbook (the Dread Crew and the Pierre Berton cookbook would be an agonizing call, if I could only carry one) – and some others that I haven’t listed here (my dad’s rosary, the What Would Jesus Wear paper doll magnet set, the hand-bound book of my paternal great-grandmother’s poetry, Jasper’s cowboy boots, the owl tattoo that I got to commemorate my dad, the Kirtsy book that I contributed to<\/a> – I really should do another list, shouldn’t I? – the fern that my dad sent me for my birthday this year, my Spanx) but this list more or less captures the spirit of the abundance that I’ve enjoyed. None of which could replace all the love in my life – my family, my friends, my work, my play – but all of which I am grateful for. So grateful.<\/p>\n I hope that this year was abundant for you, too – whatever that means for you. I hope that whatever stuff you welcomed into your life made you happy. And I hope that next year brings the same. Happy Holidays.<\/p>\n *(Because the FTC says I should, I’ve put an asterix next to those items that I didn’t purchase myself.)<\/i><\/p>\n <\/p>\n This is the season for the gift list, for the shopping guide, for the letter to Santa. It’s the season to drop hints about what we want, and to take hints – or, if you’re Emilia, direct and specific requests like I WANT AN ARIEL BATH TOY THE ONE WITH THE HAIR THAT CHANGES COLOR…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":179,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[40,11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1150","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellany","category-mush"],"yoast_head":"\n![\"mia-tree.jpg\"](\"https:\/\/wp-media.beliefnet.com\/sites\/112\/import\/assets_c\/2009\/12\/mia-tree-thumb-200x266-10153.jpg\")
<\/a><\/span>
\n3.)* The Dread Crew, an awesome book by my friend Kate Inglis<\/a>. Because<\/a>.<\/p>\n
\nEnvelope is a soft, organic, bedding-system of awesomeness – a
\nmattress-topper, quilt and pillows – that envelopes you (get it?) in
\nits snuggliness and it
\nis entirely responsible for the fact that the very little sleep I
\ndo get is about as good it as it could possibly get. <\/p>\n
\nI wrap it around me while I’m working, I wrap it around me while I’m
\nreading, I wrap it around me when I’m curling up to try to sleep, I
\nwrap it around me when I’m doing anything that can be made better by a
\nlittle wubbiness. And I don’t share it with my kids. It’s MINE.<\/p>\n![\"berton.jpg\"](\"https:\/\/wp-media.beliefnet.com\/sites\/112\/import\/assets_c\/2009\/12\/berton-thumb-200x266-10307.jpg\")
<\/a><\/span>
\n10.) The Pioneer Woman Cooks cookbook<\/a>. Because, well: cinnamon buns. CINNAMON BUNS. I’m still trying to figure out how to make them<\/a>.<\/p>\n
\nanyone who isn’t Canadian – to anyone, perhaps, who isn’t specifically a total geek
\nCanadian who collects vintage cookbooks and loves Canadian history and haunts thrifts stores –
\nbut to me, this cookbook is awesomeness squared. Pierre Berton<\/a>
\nisn’t a cook, but that didn’t stop him from putting together – well,
\nhaving his wife put together – the definitive history of Canadian
\ncuisine, complete with recipes for beer nog and sugar pie. You heard me. BEER NOG.<\/p>\n![\"rilke.jpg\"](\"https:\/\/wp-media.beliefnet.com\/sites\/112\/import\/assets_c\/2009\/12\/rilke-thumb-400x533-10305.jpg\")
<\/a><\/span>Yeah. It could not be more valuable to me if it were etched on platinum.<\/p>\n