I woke up this Saturday morning, a plethora of presents yet to wrap, groceries yet to be gathered, and not the greatest night's sleep yet again. My eyelids sprung open to this thought, "Oy, I have to get that Love Note written before my boys come home". I sprang to my desk, R. Clement Moore style. And there I sat, in my nightshirt, sans cap, staring out the sunroom window. Lower jaw agape. Nothing. Proverbial pencil tapped my lower lip. And then, after some time, something seemed to shift. NO, it's not "I have to" write this note, it's actually "I get to". I get to sit down, and take some time out from the happy holiday frenzy, to focus on a few words which just might incite a small moment of joy or inspiration. I get to do this. Every week. Wow. Now that does get me excited. You know of course that it works for me too. READ MORE
