All Best Wishes
I hope you’re having a good day. This feels like the biggest consolation Christmas in the history of Christmas. I’m sure there were more trying holidays—we don’t have to list them—but the best that can be said is that it’s not wartime. For most people, quite honestly, that may not be enough.
I’m in Rome and just took a self Covid test. That’s not a phrase I thought I’d be writing. But traveling these days is complicated—canceled plans, shut restaurants, general air of unease, and that’s if you’re lucky.
In the shadow of all this, Emilie and I were talking about what makes a Christmas feel like Christmas. She said a mild, humid day in Rome surrounded by cypress trees could still feel like Christmas. This gave me pause. As a Minnesotan I’m required, by birthright, to demand the day to be snow-filled. And not just any snow, but a particular type of snow—fluffy and widespread, rather than a light, reluctant dusting. And this white blanket should serve as the backdrop to a gently roaring fire, that continues politely for 16 hours straight.