I may be an almost 40 year old woman, but I’m also fully 5 years old, and still believe in the magic of Christmas. For me, it’s the build-up, the anticipation of the day itself, and just an overwhelming sense of hopefulness that is sort of at once old and new, and completely contagious. We’re going up to Olympia this year to have Christmas with Morrison’s fam, and this tiny chance, Just a CHANCE that it might snow while we’re there, is making me giddy, like I might see an actual Santa snake through the sky. It might snow, and we’ll all roll around together like balls of snickerdoodle dough, and enter the next year in good health, better times ahead. It all feels possible, if not childlike, if not delusional. Just like worry, Hope might be a choice, too, but for me, it’s always been the easiest.