With only ten days to Christmas, perhaps much like many of you, I am in a dilemma. Can't decide if getting ready for remembering Jesus' birth, or moving into the house, is tying my hands. Signs of both abound in this little apartment, and I'd better unscramble it soon. So this ninety nine percent right brain creature who shuns organization as much as possible, must call upon the creative part of me to deal with it.

If the Lord's willing, on my day off tomorrow I will decide on gifts for family here, and hope that my promise of something better for those farther away lets them know I care.

Then the getting ready to move will begin. All the clothes I own will be heaped on a bed, and nothing that doesn't fit will move into the house. Same thing with much of the kitchen. I won't thow away my seldom used food processer, or electric mixer, just because I haven't taken them off the shelf all year.

But those Great Depression little plastic containers I am going to use "someday" may end up on a landfill. I am not moving them into my freshly repainted and repaired little house. Some thrift stores in the area will be so happy to get my donations, and the recycling of them can begin all over again.

I so wanted to celebrate this Christmas with a beautiful tree, and the smell of pumpkin pies rising from the kitchen, and the ones I so love coming through the garland streamed door, but I may have to settle for their simply being there moving me for what I hope will be the last time. Daughters Barb and Bev are so right. The very best gifts don't come in ribboned boxes.

But on second thought, perhaps I should sort through those nice little plastic containers one more time.