Music Monday – Haim
The Advent Wreath
The season of Advent is upon us.
It’s the time of year when families around the globe, who observe the liturgical calendar, gather in preparation for the celebration of the birth of Jesus at Christmas.
A time where families gather in church fellowship halls to build their own Wreath, which they will place prominently in their homes and light as a family throughout the weeks leading up to Christmas.
A time for Joy, Peace, Love and Hope.
A time when parents are full of joy because their children are able to light the candles of the Wreath in an environment of love and peace. Or, in the case of my parents, hopeful that their daughters would light the candles in an environment of love and peace.
You see, one year my sister and I weren’t so, um, loving or peaceful during the lighting of the candles. In fact, we had a bit of a tiff over whose turn it was to read the devotional and whose turn it was to light the candles.
And this tiff?
Well, let’s just say that in ended in a – ahem – well lit Advent Wreath.
As in, we set our family’s Advent Wreath on fire.
image via Jer86 on Flickr
A Tale of Two Sisters
My family made the 14 hour drive [each way] to Kiawah Island, SC without leaving anyone on the side of the road, so I say that’s a successful trip. 🙂 We had a great time: relaxing, visiting a tea plantation, sweet tea vodka distillery, Charleston, and, of course, the beach. We even spotted a few alligators in the lagoon behind our villa.
However, the purpose of this post isn’t to wax poetic about Kiawah or the tea plantation or the Spanish Moss that draped the highways. Instead it’s to share with you the perfect illustration of these sisters’ personalities that occurred on the drive out.
As we drove through Atlanta, the only thing that popped into my head was “Don’t be Tardy for the Party“, from the esteemed Bravo reality show, “Real Housewives of Atlanta“. I suppressed the urge to sing it, because no one else would understand. Then, about an hour later we had begun our trip on the scenic highways of Georgia. As we drove through Augusta and saw the quintessential southern mansions that lined downtown, I pointed to one with a white picket fence. My sister immediately replied, “Looks like it needs a little Huckleberry Finn action.”
Me: Reality television aficionado
My sister: Classic literature virtuoso