No Jingles, No Bells

The end of last week was so warm that on Thursday I wore short sleeves and on Friday I didn't even bother to take a jacket with me to work.

Between the weather and the fact that we are thousands of miles from our families, the holiday season—so far, at least—has been more than a bit disorienting.

While I don't miss fighting my way through the crowds in Times Square or along Fifth Avenue, I do miss the undeniable energy that infuses New York this time of year.

There may be holiday energy out here—it's probably just more diffuse, spread out the way everything is in this land of sprawl. In New York, it's absolutely unavoidable, mainly because people are out and about in such numbers and in such close, jostle-prone quarters that the energy flows like a current from one person to the next to the next.

Here you rarely bump into anyone—physically, that is—so maybe there's no opportunity for one person's holiday fever to infect anyone else. I certainly haven't been bitten by the bug.

Today Zach and I reorganized the couple dozen still-to-be-unpacked boxes that remind us every day how much settling in we have yet to do. When I came upon the one that holds our holiday ornaments, menorah, and Hanukkah candles, I nearly restacked it with all of the others before I realized that hey, wait a minute, 'tis the season.

Really, 'tis.