Purple Christmas

Pantone’s Color of the Year for 2026 is “Cloud Dancer.”

Or, more accurately, white.

I think this captures it:

Oh, how deadly dull. Haven’t we had enough of white, beige, and Millennial gray home decor? Bland decor has gone from trend to standard, and I absolutely hate it. It’s a snooze-fest, and heaven forbid you spill anything on it and it’s not Scotchguarded. I’ll give a slight nod to bland bedrooms, as then the snooze-festiness is an advantage. My own is done in gray, black, and white, though it has purple accents, but that’s all. Otherwise, give me color, a whole riot of ’em.

Just for Pantone’s aesthetic offense, I’m going to share my holiday wallpaper with you, which is decidedly NOT Blah White.

Christmas ornaments and a candle on top of a book.
Image by Zoe on Unsplash

My choice is a bit defiant. Purple is my favorite color. About 12 or 13 years ago, while looking at Christmas decorations in a store with one of my sisters, I picked up a purple ornament.

“NO, Zenzalei,” she said. “Not purple. That’s not a Christmas color. NO.”

It was like she was talking to a dog.

Well, here’s one of my favorite ornaments. It’s from a set of five that belonged to my parents and featured different magical townspeople. The other colors are pink, blue, green, and yellow. My mother used to say that the green was Coco, the blue was Jehanne, the pink was Annette, the yellow was herself, the purple was me, as those were all of our respective favorite colors or variations thereof. (Annette’s is red.)

A purple Christmas ornament with a small figure of a dark-haired girl inside.
The only case you can put me in. Mom said.

Oh, and the ornament I picked up? I went back and bought it when my sister wasn’t around. I keep it as a reminder not to let other people tell me how to express myself, and instead to create a world of my own, one that brings me comfort, joy, and peace, one where I can be me, purple and all.

A purple and gold Christmas ornament.
So there.

Small Joys

Oops. Got caught up in some journaling, so I’m late on this one.

Today Holidailies says: Share your best advice for surviving the holiday season.

I’ve answered this last year, on December 3. My answer was to protect your peace, namely by saying no to things and people who disrupt it. You don’t have to do all of the things and you don’t have to see all of the people.

This year, I’m suggesting saying yes, but to the small joys that can still be found in an ever-demoralizing world. There’s a lot going on around the world, as there always is, with war, natural disasters, economic instability, and social upheaval. If you’re in the United States, 2025 has been a whammy of political insanity. For all intents and purposes, the country is collapsing under a regime led by a megalomaniac who has one foot in the grave and wants to ruin as much on his way out as he can. Wherever you turn, there’s bad news.

And yet, wherever you turn, there lies the opportunity for a small joy.

Fill a bird-feeder and watch our feathered friends flit around. Look at how the sun shines on their feathers, listen to their little chirps and songs.

Make a giant mug of hot chocolate. Dump in some marshmallows and top it off with whipped cream. Sit under a quilt, take a sip, and let the whipped cream dot the tip of your nose.

Listen to your favorite music. Play the same song over and over again as many times as you want. This song has 1,046,490,278 plays on Spotify. I think I’m responsible for those last 278 of them. The music sounds like we’re being flung out into some kind of giant cosmic nightclub. I love it.

Call a friend you haven’t spoken to in a long time. Let the friendship pick up like it was just yesterday. Listen to how happy they are to hear from you. You’ll hear it in their voice.

Sleep late. Like, really late. Past noon. Get up, have lunch. Then read a good book. If you need a nap, take a nap.

Put on something comfortable and stretch. Feel how everything extends and loosens up.

Hold the door open for someone else, just to do it.

Make a donation to your favorite charity.

Light your favorite candle.

Watch your favorite comedy. Or spooky movie. Or musical. Or drama.

Help your kids build a snowman.

Draw something fun on the sidewalk with sidewalk chalk.

Play solitaire with real cards. Or have a game night with friends.

Stroll through a museum.

Get on the floor and romp around with your dog. Let your cat judge you both.

Take a hot bath with a million tea lights around you like they do in the movies.

Look up at the stars.

Scroll through your phone at pictures of the good times.

Go down a YouTube rabbithole of old commercials. Send the links to friends your age. Every time I see a montage of commercials from the 70s and 80s, it’s like I’m a kid again. “I had that! And that! Remember that?”

Buy something small on sale that you never tried before. I’ve discovered vanilla cream seltzer for 89 cents for a 33-ounce bottle, and the other day I managed to snag five of them for a dollar.

Small joys like that are sustainable. They’re what will get us all through both the season and whatever earthly turmoil surrounds us. Post ’em if you’ve got ’em. I’m always looking for fresh ideas.

A Christmas ornament in the shape of a snowman, with a small tag that says "joy."

A Fine Point

I’m a writer. This means I work with words, little things that have meaning and must be treated with respect.

Yes, I write in a colloquial way here, but I also know a thing or two about grammar, having spent 14 years of my career as an editor.

Phonics? Yep. Give me some phonemes and graphemes, baby.

Rhythm and flow? I’m a poet and I know it.

Spelling? Oh, heck yeah. In French, too, back before I let my French collect cobwebs.

Yet I’ve been making a giant mistake my whole life, one that I must confess to you now.

I’ve been both spelling and saying poinsettia incorrectly, as pointsettia.

PoinTsettia.

POYNT-set-ee-ah.

Ain’t no t after the n in that word.

Oops.

Anyway, here’s a little pic I took today. It’s a close-up of a POINSETTIA.

A close-up of part of a poinsettia.