I spent my Christmas Eve on the ski slopes with my family. A much calmer skiing trip than the previous one, but no less enjoyable. I rode up the gondola with a family from Dover who had made the trek over to Banff (we were skiing at Sunshine Village) to spend the holidays. They mentioned castles and battle re-enactments around their home town - sounded like there was a lot of dented armour being produced on the east shores of England in the summer.

After skiing, we made the hour drive back and prepared for the big day. One thing I insisted on was a trip to church. Normally, I'm not that fervent to push a religous experience on my family, but I enjoy singing Christmas carols and the usual candlelight procession that happens at the end of the service. I don't insist that they attend, but they decided to tag along.

The church that we attend most regularly is the United Church. Although I don't (unquestioningly) subscribe to the Protestant religion, I find that the United Church is the most accepting and welcoming of all the Christian faiths. The experience was wonderful. Being with a group of people that are feeling love for the whole of humanity does something nourishing for your soul, no matter where your spiritual idiologies run. The sermon was a message of acceptance, welcoming all who came to the sanctuary that evening. I found it very satisfying being there.

After church, we came home, got ready for bed and Banana and McMonk crawled back into their nest to settle down for the evening. As I was putting the last few goodies in the Christmas stockings, looked out the back window and saw the pine tree in the back yard. It was a small cone of warm lights in the darkness.

I felt all Christmas-y. Everything was as it should be, me in my warm, little, un-renovated house, amongst the clutter that I've carefully accumulated and can't seem to get rid of, with my occasionally misbehaving children that I love so much.