Homemade cards are so beautiful and so personal those who receive them sometimes keep them around all year.  Cards tucked into mirrors,  used as book-marks, fastened to the refrigerator.

I continue to practice “slow Christmas”.  Each day doing a little decorating. Today gracing the fireplace with fresh cedar from the garden.

Wrapping gifts to mail to my sisters.

I fuss over the wrappings.

Lingering over my collection of beautiful ribbons.

Searching for just the right color.

My sewing room/atelier floor glitters with fairy dust.

There ‘s a pile of paper  rustling and whispering to me.

Pages from a discarded music book.

Past Christmas cards to beautiful to be discarded.

I have silver glitter in my hair.

Gold dust on my face.

A discarded song book gives me the words.

I play at paper dolls  or rather paper angels.

Glue them to the cards and embellish them with ribbons.

Photographs from long ago lends inspiration.

“Tis the season to be jolly”

I’m having fun with this old photograph.

Stern, unsmiling she needs to have a little fun.

I’ve tacked holly to her hair and filled her arms with Christmas cheer.

The cards are done.

I mail them at the post office in the village, and receive a handful of red and white striped peppermint candies along with the stamps.

This is how Christmas should be.  No malls, no strident music, no jostling for parking space. It’s been a”slow Christmas”.

The very best kind of our home here on The Farm.