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Last night sitting in the glow of our tiny Christmas tree, I got homesick.  Not homesick for now but for when I was a little kid. Of course I miss my friends and family a little more around this time of year but last night I found myself transported back to Christmas's when I was young. There is something about multicolored lights on an evergreen that instantly brings me back home. Some of my clearest and fondest memories are of decorating the tree with my parents, watching corny Christmas shows on TV after getting home from school,  and filling stockings on Christmas Eve while we ate Chinese food and watched George Baily be railroaded by everyone he loved. Christmas is perhaps the most nostalgic time of year and I find myself trying to recreate the traditions of my past with my husband, We went to a lot and picked out a real tree this year and that woodsy, homey pine smell hit my nose and brought me to all of those times my Dad and I went tree hunting. I also want to have new traditions because its not good to always dwell in the past but I see no harm in keeping some of the things that made my childhood so magical.

I finished "Last Night in Twisted River" and I'm kinda pissed. I was enjoying it so much and then it turned sour. I think that if the last third of the book was gone, I would have loved it. Yes the whole tone of the book was melancholy and I didn't love the main character but the plot was interesting and suspenseful enough to keep me guessing. I feel like Irving kind of gave up by the end. It got unbelievable and boring by the time I hit page 400 out of 600. I hate it when I read a novel that has a crappy ending. It ruins the whole book for me. It has always made me think that Irving has lost his touch. His last 3 books have been shadows of who he used to be as a writer and story teller. Wow that makes me sad.

Nothing else is really going on in my life that doesn't revolve around sports or TV shows so I'll spare you the boring details....till next time

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