Everybody in our town carries adrenaline shots. Also, they only go under in pairs.

Are you looking for the Instagrammiest #holidaywin for 2017? Come on down to the Lancaster Mall Hobby Lobby, where we can help you recreate the yuletide look-of-the-moment for your house!

Roughly grate the potatoes. You can also do this with a blitzer, but there’s something nice about knowing you’re participating in your culture’s tradition by doing it by hand.

Tell whoever says there’s nothingto do in Fremont, Indiana thatthe Holiday Inn Express hasfree cookies all night anda business center and a Christmas treeall in a row in the lobby.

People who hate this

song are like people who

don’t like candy corn:

loud, everywhere, and

wrong.

It’s the seasonal shift, the boomerang-bending-back to turn and return to the hands that cradled us, once, but also the melancholy of realizing all the things that were supposed to happen during the year and didn’t.

This poem was supposed to be about

Donald Trump playing Dungeons and Dragons,

When you make the fruitcake there are some rules:

You will want to picture it covered in apricot jam, nuts, the fingerprints of lovers, but that is to get ahead of yourself. To put the cake before the batter, as it were.

First it’s the good sugar, all babyit's cold outside and warm hands of the loveron your spine. While any fool could seethe trees turning to spindle points,

Before they searched the basement. Before her father unlatched the stubborn door to the wine cellar. Before they found the small form huddled beneath a white blanket.

Christmas Town. What a dreadful, dismal, backwater dump

Have you been?

And what I mean is, have you been since you were small and rather naïve?

We wanted to begin. We wanted to be reborn and die and do all these things at once.

I walked into the dirtiest, saddest, scariest gas station in Baton Rouge.

I’ve always envied people who can remember holidays from their childhood. I’m not great at remembering things. Sometimes I forget to eat, or shower, or brush my teeth.

Toward the end, the grandmother began leaving offerings in her backyard each night for the fox. Her family told her not to; but each time they confronted her about it, she claimed she had no idea what they were talking about.

like would I go back if I could?it has rained for thirty-six hours & I am bored of the present so sure maybe 

“Don’t resist counseling.”“I resist everything but clown makeup and donuts.”

In the picture of my heart’s desire, I am watching “Three’s Christmas,” the fourteenth episode of the second season of Three’s Company, and the only holiday episode of my favorite series.

Their feet stuck to the thin layer of beer that coated the kitchen and mail littered the rug by the front door. They went out only to get milk and coffee and diner eggs.

Crab—because they skitter sidelong—might counter your clockwise.

Pheasant for fear of your luck taking wing. As Emily Dickinson said: hope is a feathered thing.