Most years, at this time, I think to myself how smart it would be for me to write some notes to myself about what to avoid and what to plan for the next time Christmas rolls around. Mostly it's because I can't shake some negative thinking right about now, a few days before Dec. 25, and if there's any way to avoid this emotional sinkhole then I'm all for it.

Except there are those who might say that I ought to just feel the feelings and let them slip on down. Don't always be trying to take the sting out of the tough states, which is kind of a lifelong habit of mine that has not really made things better for me.

I did have a fine party the other night. That was a good thing, and I did some aspects of it in ways that felt kind of grown up and thoughtful.

As for Christmas, I am in that spot where I fear I haven't gotten enough good stuff for my children to gorge themselves on when they open presents. It's not like I was born during the Depression. But I have this notion that the tree should be surrounded by gaily wrapped gifts of all sizes and shapes, bathed in the colorful, soft glow of the old C-9 lights (those LED ones at OSH are way too wimpy although they may be the Christmas light show of our energy-depleted future).

I do get tired of my same old woes year in and year out. But I also don't think I want new woes. These are plenty tough enough.