At four o'clock in the afternoon yesterday, a deep, white, mystical fog settled over the neighborhood where we reside. It was beautiful, and a bit eerie - we rarely have fog in the afternoon. It's more of a late night to mid-morning thing.

I had spent an hour trying to paint a dresser, child's table and headboard in the frosty tundra that is our garage, and when I headed back to the house for a warm shower, I was mesmerized - in the late day's light, the fog was bright white and dare I say, twinkly. I wrapped my arms around myself and watched as the fog caressed the trees and settled lightly on the roof.

Back in the house, I pondered the fog while I regarded the new, white high-gloss enamel highlights that I was now sporting. "Do you think it's going to snow?" asked my hubs as he passed by the bathroom.

"I don't know. Maybe?" It snows here every 10 years or so, for one night, and then by the middle of the next day, it is gone, replaced by mud. The last snowfall came on a winter night when my son was a tiny babe in arms. I sat by the window and watched the snow fall past the streetlight while I nursed him back to sleep in the wee hours.

Last night, all my kids wanted to do was snuggle in my arms. I have so much to accomplish, but I took the evening off, and after dinner, we all curled up like a pile of puppies on the couch and watched obscure holiday specials on television. Did you know there is a show with Leprechauns? Those TV people were really reaching.

After the kids dropped off, one by one, we tucked them into their beds, and I did a bit of wrapping, but outside my window, that magic fog had put me in a bit of a stupor. I ended up crawling into bed at ten o'clock - early for me, and ridiculous considering all I have left to do. But there I was under my blankets, next to the man I love and feeling content.

This morning, the fog was gone shortly after dawn. It had taken on the typical grey hue anyway, just your run of the mill Star Trek looking tulle fog. Although the sun has risen on a cold and crystal clear day, the sharp air hasn't managed to penetrate the blanket of contentment I burrowed under last night. I'm at peace, and although I still have a giant list to accomplish, the sense of being burdened is gone.

I feel all Christmasy n shiznit.