Tag Archives: 12 blogs of Christmas

My favorite part of the classic holiday storybook “How the Grinch Stole Christmas!“ is near the very end when the Grinch is baffled by the Who’s singing after he has stolen their presents and roast beast. And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. “Maybe Christmas,” he thought, “doesn’t come from a store.” “Maybe Christmas perhaps means a little bit more!” Every year at Christmas I wrestle with a more mentality. As a naturally selfish human being I always want more....

I’m always a little bit hesitant to talk love languages, because I have the most selfish-sounding of them all. Because my primary love language is gifts. Which basically boils down to, “If you want to show me that you love me, give me stuff.” It’s kind of embarrassing. Of course, it means that Christmas has a special place in my heart. Sure, there’s the peppermint mocha coffee goo that I put in my morning joe, the plates of Christmas cookies that are passed around at family gatherings, the unending stream of Christmas music in my car, the rehearsals for church services. These are all wonderful parts of the Christmas experience, and I look forward to them every year....

It’s the day after Thanksgiving, and the holiday season gift-buying is in full swing. Black Friday specials have the shoppers out in droves. Downtown Portland is a sea of moving people with packages, shopping lists, and agendas. Me, I’m armed with my Nikon camera, hoping to capture some artistic street photos. I stand on a street corner for a half hour or so, just getting a feel for the people walking from store to store. I notice that some of the downtown citizens remain outside the retail giants’ doors. There is an older gentleman attempting to hand out copies of his religion’s periodical. There are street performers and musicians demonstrating their talents in hopes that the holiday revelers would donate a...

Back before the days of flip cameras and high-definition video cameras, my parents recorded some of our early Christmases on tape. Well, I don’t even know what they used to record it, but they made a cassette tape for me with the recorded memories. Yes. I am old. Anyway, on one particular Christmas, my parents had gotten 2-year-old me what they assumed would be the hit of the year — my very own play kitchen. The tape documents me coming down the stairs Christmas morning and discovering all the gifts Santa had left behind....