Nothing as wonderful as a good night's sleep. Knowing there will be something in one's Christmas stocking. Yes, we looked around the house*, found something given and loved, and put them in each other's stocking. All the surprize, none of the shopping. We really don't need or want presents as such, but we give each other needed gifts all the time. This is a way of saying, "I know what you like." And another chance to say, thanks, as well.
This mug qualified as my favorite this year. D got his favorite incense, guitar picks, a marble and birthday candles. All mean a moment, a memory - not a recent shopping trip. I still love the steel bowl set he gave me our first Christmas home - because it meant he listened and believed me. I didn't want anything pretty or romantic, I needed a good mixing bowl, and only wanted a practical gift. Nothing else. His willingness to give me something so dull and utilitarian, when he'd be much happier giving a silly toy or sparkly earrings, spoke so clearly of a patient and accepting love.
I sat to invite Moby to my lap. Near the space heater. We all got exactly what we want.
In our House.
Another honest-to-bast hotflash, walked outside in my pj's, left bare footprints in the snow. D was going to salt the walk, but I claimed it. Put on shoes and jeans and a t-shirt, and swept snow. Admittedly my hands started to hurt, but I was not cold. Very weird phenomenon. Uncomfortable, not horrible, mostly just damned odd.
Santa Baby caught in my head, used this moment from Community as an antidote. D and I both laughing breathlessly.
*Still have to remind myself House, not Apartment.