Robin Garrison Leach

Now that Daylight Saving Time has ended, the activity pattern of my life—and maybe yours—has changed.

All summer, my boyfriend and I talked, chuckled, stuttered, and breathed heavily to each other inside this magical phone booth. Same time, each appointed weeknight. I stitched my life around the call time and made sure to be there, hand atop the handset and heart pounding.

Every business in town is ready for your holiday shopping dollars. Even the grocery store you’ve visited all year long to buy mundane essentials—bread, toilet paper, dog food—has transformed itself into ‘Santa’s Factory Outlet of Edible Specials.’

When I was growing up, ironing was a scheduled chore for every mom. A day was set aside each week for the task. Mounds of wrinkled fabric billowed from a waiting basket.

I don’t know when I began putting this curfew on my life. It’s just that I don’t have many reasons to do go anywhere after dark nowadays.

John and I argue every Christmas about gift wrapping. The fighting is a tradition we’ve grown comfortable with. We get out the wrapping paper, tape, and scissors. Then the fun begins.

John and I argue every Christmas about gift wrapping. The fighting is a tradition we've grown comfortable with. We get out the wrapping paper, tape, and scissors. Then the fun begins.

Our Christmas tree that year was a spindly scrap of a cedar sapling hacked from the woods behind our house. My brothers wrangled it through the front door, and its scratchy limbs brushed the carpet in tiny whispers.

Opposites attract. The differences in your personalities add spice to your marriage. Unfortunately, that spice can be as irritating as salt on an open wound.

I took a deep breath today. Sounds ordinary, I know, but I noticed it for a reason. I can't remember the last time I took a deep breath; just filled my lungs to capacity and emptied them slowly.