Man, it sure doesn't to me. I'm just not in the spirit, I guess. I look at the calender and I'm surprised to see the number. I'm thinking about gifts for my beloved family and working on them too, but haven't put up any decorations except a front door wreath that I probably will change tomorrow since it's grapevine and white tulle that basically disappears into the white painted door.
I had some actual customers yesterday. It was a novel experience. I told Mom that I had to check the handbook to see how to cope with them but I managed. I think I talked too much in my excitement over having live humans to interact with, but they did buy things, and not cheap things either. Maybe they'll tell their friends and more will come today. I'd keep my fingers crossed but that interferes with knitting.
December 15--Santorini. "Scholars may think that this was Atlantis," Jenna said, "but now it's just a nest of millionaires. She stood on the terrace of the villa she and Rob and six of their friends had rented for the summer. The land dropped away on the other side of the stone and stucco wall and plunged into the bay. Moored all up the west side of the bay were yachts bigger than some skyscrapers. They had envisioned an island lost in time with goats on the roads and sleepy villages ringed by olive groves. Turns out the nouveau riche and the jet set had discovered the place so Gucci rubbed elbows with Fendi and the roads were clogged with Rolls' and Ferraris.
I just finished 4 miles on the exer-cycle and now it's time for my Cheerios. Hasta la vista, babies!