A messy Sunday afternoon from our dining room. It amazes me how quickly this apartment goes from fairly organized to entirely disordered.

One of the holida doodads that Scott and I bought last year at Philly’s Christmas Village. It’s just lovely to buy these little seasonal things together. I’m a big believer in seasonal traditions and I like forging these new ones with my guy.

Earlier in the year, I bought a few canning supplies at a city hardware store. City hardware stores a whole different breed from their suburban counterparts. Because buildings are narrow and space is limited, products are jammed in and a sense of organization is loose, at best. Aisles are skinny and during the winter, when everyone is bundled in puffy coats, don’t even think about trying to sneak past someone.

I adore this sense of disorder, as it means that you’ll often find treasures, like canning jar lids that haven’t been in production for at least a few seasons, with recipes printed right on the box.

This time of year, I go crazy for clementines, satsumas, mandarins and any form of small, easily peeled citrus. It makes me particularly happy to display them in one of my vintage bowls.

I found this little bowl at a thrift store years ago, long before I knew that it was from the Catherineholm line and that it was highly sought by collectors. I bought it because I was charmed by it and paid all of $3. As far as I’m concerned, that’s the best kind of collecting.

We put up our tiny fake tree tonight. I’ve been collecting ornaments for years, so I have enough to cover that teeny tree at least five times over. So I heap the extras in any vessel that will hold still, including ancient cake tins.

If it’s wrong to decorate with bundled up strands of Christmas lights, well, then I don’t want to be right (no worries, I’m not plugging them in. I’m just enjoying the festive cluster of bulbs).

I have not been feeling the Christmas vibe. I think that a large part of it is that I spend so much of my time alone in the apartment now (one of the workplace hazards of freelance life), so I’m somewhat sheltered from the holiday hubbub that’s happening out there.

There’s another part to it, though. This year has sped by at such lightning speed that I can’t really grasp the reality that it’s time for trees, tinsel and gifts. It’s as if my heart and soul are still somewhere in September, despite the fact my body is presently in December. The balmy weather we’ve been having isn’t helping me feel like winter is here.

So today, I went outside in the middle of the day and walked myself to Rittenhouse Square. I stood there in the shadow of the giant Christmas tree and tried to turn on my holiday spirit. Looking at the lights, I could feel something start to shift. I came home and worked to the strains of A Charlie Brown Christmas. And tonight, we set up our teeny, tiny (fake) tree.

I might find my holiday spirit even yet.

The Make-a-Wish wall at the LOVE Park Christmas Village. Many of the wishes were absolutely charming and lovely. Had it not cost $3 to make even the cheapest wish, I might have made one myself.

This dog statue sits outside the gourmet dog treat store down the block from our apartment (how this shop has stayed in business for more than two years continues to boggle my mind). I noticed that today, he got reindeer ears.

Toffee with chocolate and toasted walnuts. The holiday baking has begun.