I feel a great sense of accomplishment when my Inbox is "cleaned out," and am genuinely tormented by items that cannot readily be deleted, answered or put into a folder.
This year my husband and I are on sabbatical from our respective universities, so we packed up loads of books, two children and four laptops, and moved to Paris.
Christmas is not far away and I'm beginning to think I did it wrong. Outside of my mellow sphere, there are signs that we are not waiting for a holiday, but for the end of the world as we know it.
Everyone I know espouses the virtue of a homemade Christmas, and I have to admit that when someone takes the time to make me something I am genuinely touched by the act.