I just can't do it.

Christmas was so wonderful, and magical and swirly whirly delightfully cozy I can not pack it away.

Ours is the only house on the street still literally lit up like a Christmas tree.

There are still pine scented soaps in the bathrooms, Christmas candles flickering as soon as the sun goes down and music from the Nutcracker playing as I cook and draw.

One year we kept our Christmas tree up until February. I was sick. Afraid I would never see the ornaments again, I just couldn't pack them away. Well, they have been in and out fourteen more times since then. So there! My lion ornament, given to me that year for courage, takes his place of honor every year, eye level with me. I look at him, he looks back at me, knowing full well courage and love are a winning combination.

This weekend will probably be it. All the decorations will come down. But no way am I tossing out the last gingerbread people. My daughter made them. I like their company. They are hard as rocks and a little worse for wear, but I just can't do it.