Don’t forget to check out what the other authors participating in the hop are giving away!
Thanks for stopping by my blog on your travels through Entangled Publishing’s Holiday Blog Hop. I’ve had a wonderful first year in publishing and to give thanks, I’d love to give away a copy of each of the books that released in 2012. My Christmas book, Holiday Sparks, will be coming out on Dec 21st, 2012 and rounding out my truly spectacular year. As an extra bonus I’ll also give one lucky winner a $10 GC to Amazon to go with my books! Just enter on the rafflecopter for a chance to win.
My favorite memory about Christmas was when I was a little bit older. My dad and mom loved Christmas and we always had a houseful on Christmas Day. So, the night before we’d go to mass–my aunt was a nun. Seriously. No lie there, folks. My aunt, also my godmother, was a nun. Coolest nun ever, btw.
Anyway, we weren’t overly religious, but we’d go to her church with her on Christmas Eve. Then, my dad being my dad, we’d sneak out after the sacrament to miss the crowd at the end. LOL God, I loved my impatient father.
But there was part of him that was infinitely patient. When it came to opening the presents.
My dad would have the the presents set out under the tree, arranged by family member, and make us insane to know what things were. We’d have dinner–usually, my mom’s to die for lasagna and then we’d all settle down in the living room for presents. Again, he’d have everything organized in piles next to wherever we landed.
We’d always make sure he had a big ole pile of gifts too, but he’d always forget to open his because he was too busy watching us with this crazy grin on his face. My dad wasn’t the most demonstrative man, but he was a big ole mushball when it came to Christmas.
A stocking full of goodies and a floor full of wrapping paper, bows and whatever tinsel got dislodged in the melee.
Then within twenty minutes, my mother the wonder-cleaner-organizer-of-all things-Christmas, would have the presents under the tree in their boxes and lined up like Macy’s was coming to check her display work.
There would be laughter, a crackling fire–even when it was mild night, and family. Always family.
That’s what I remember best about Christmas.