Author's Note: This could end up becoming as long as the diary! I have so many little Christmas vignettes in mind – A Christmas Ghost story (a la A Christmas Carol), an actual Christmas dinner, actually opening some of the presents already discussed (Plus what will Shane get?), a few Dear Santa deliveries, what was the Christmas Eve present?, a carol service, light looking, Christmas church services and .. and … and … and maybe a postal ball. This may keep me going for the whole of my holidays!

Decorating Dilemmas

The First Step is Admitting You have a Problem

Oliver was adamant that Christmas trees should not be up before the beginning of Advent. Shane didn't agree but was happy to work with his edict (well she let him think that it was an edict). There would be no tree in the O'Toole house until then. Oliver should have realised that he needed to be a bit more specific, because although there was no tree, many other decorations made their was onto tables, mantles, walls, doors, and any other surface Shane thought needed a little Christmas cheer. Shane thought every surface needed Christmas cheer. For someone who had eschewed the festive season for many years, Shane was now its most enthusiastic devotee.

It seemed that almost every day since the beginning of November, a collection of packages made their way onto the O'Toole porch. Some of them (horror of horrors) were even delivered by the overnight delivery company that must not be named. Angels, lights reindeer, advent calendars, lights, bells, crafting materials, wreaths, nutcrackers, lights and nativity sets arrived in speedy succession.

Shane was in her home office, surrounded by ornaments, beads, glue guns, ribbon, and Styrofoam cones. She was crafting ornament trees for the mantle. Oliver found her by following the sound of Christmas music, and stood at the office door watching her antics. Initially unsure what was going on, he was amazed to see order emerging from the chaos on her desk.

'Christmas trees Shane?'

She grinned in his direction. 'Yes, but I am not putting them up just yet. You know, because they are trees.'

She battered her eyes in his direction. He laughed, then sat in armchair that was tucked into the area before the window.

Oliver cleared his throat, and then voiced his concern. 'Are we almost at the end of our decorating, Shane?' he asked hopefully.

'Almost.'

'Almost? Is there a surface yet to be festooned with Christmas joy?'

'Well, I haven't decorated the porch yet.'

Oliver gulped. 'We are not going to become one of those houses with lights and tacky decorations everywhere, are we? He looked nauseous.

Shane turned off the glue gun, then made her way to where he was sitting. She sat down on the floor, leaning her head against his leg. He played with her hair as she spoke.

'I promise, no tacky yard decorations.' He felt bad for checking her fingers were not crossed behind her back, but really, Yuletide had exploded at their house, and they didn't even have a tree up yet! Shane sat quietly for a few moments, but then abruptly sat up. Oliver expected she would return to her crafting. Instead, she turned to him and taking his hand, she looked into his eyes.

'I know this is all a bit much Oliver. I may even have a bit of a Christmas problem.'

Oliver was clever enough to leave this well and truly alone.

Shane continued. 'I just missed out on so many years of this …fun, and now I guess I am trying to, not exactly make up for it, but rather spread Christmas. I never realised what joy there was at this time of the year and want to share that with everyone. I know that the decorations are just the trimmings, and that it is all about the nativity and hope and family, but,' she wiped a tear and then continued, 'I want to be absolutely engaged in celebrating after years of not.'

Oliver rose from the chair and pulled Shane to her feet. He gathered her in a hug, and they stood together, each silently sending up a prayer of thanks for the other. After a few minutes, Oliver stepped back and took Shane's hand in his.

'So.. the porch?' Let's tackle that together' he said.

Not Everything Goes to Plan

Shane had been researching for days, and after many hours on Youtube, she felt confident she could tackle her next holiday project, a gingerbread house. She had her ingredients, candy decorations and house pattern ready. Operation 'house' was a go! Today, she was going to bake and cool the gingerbread, then use the icing mortar to assemble. Tomorrow, she would decorate so that she could take it in to the DLO on Monday. Joe popped over for a visit just as she removed the last batch of gingerbread from the oven, ready to tackle a little DIY project with Oliver for the church (namely repairing the manger for the Nativity display). Great! She had the kitchen to herself.

Shane was giving the gingerbread time to cool, so she decided that now was the perfect time to call her mother and get her recipe for her red velvet ripple cheesecake. She headed upstairs to her office to get pen and paper so she could write it down. 25 minutes later, armed with the recipe (as well as many other gems of information her mother thought necessary), Shane returned to the kitchen to see something out of a horror movie.

Not only was her gingerbread destroyed, demolished really, but also most of the candy had also disappeared. And sitting among the debris were the culprits – Oliver and Joe!

'No, no, no no!' She wailed.

'What?' Oliver asked, trying to not look like he was talking with his mouth full of gingerbread.

Really! He wasn't even trying to hide it!

'Don't you what me, Oliver O'Toole! Where is my gingerbread!' Shane's voice was getting a little more shrill, and definitely louder.

Joe had the grace to look a little sheepish at least – unlike her husband! 'We um… ate it?'

Joe blanched at the look thrown in his direction. 'It was really good!' he interjected hopefully.

Oliver was quick to agree. Then he stepped headfirst into the abyss of his own making. 'Why did you cut it out in rectangles and things? Couldn't you find the cutter?'

Shane took a deep breath. Then she took another. She counted to 10.

'I. Didn't. Want. To. Use. A. Cutter. Oliver. Joseph. Lindley. O'Toole.' Her father-in-law was also in her sights. 'Did. I. Joseph. Henry. O'Toole?'

Both O'Toole men gulped and then snuck a glace at each other. Joe was foolish enough to shrug, while Oliver, bounced.

Shane stepped towards the kitchen bench, drumming her fingers on the granite surface. 'I. Was. Making. A. Gingerbread. House!'

Oh. Oliver and Joe looked at each other, then quickly looked away. Joe's shoulders began to shake in silent mirth. Oliver tried to refrain, knowing the deep trouble that awaited him, but seeing his father quietly losing it broke his composure. He started to laugh too.

Shane did not laugh. She continued to drum her fingers on the countertop. Then she spoke very quietly. 'You two boys are going to clean this kitchen, and then you are going to go to the store and buy all of my ingredients and candy decorations again, do I make myself clear?'

Oliver and Joe replied, 'Yes ma'am' in perfect unison. They were intelligent enough to hold their laughter until Shane stomped her way upstairs.

'Son,' Joe remarked ruefully,' I think we need to by some flowers too.'

Oliver nodded. 'And chocolate … serious chocolate.'

Finding out who is Naughty and Nice

One of Shane's favourite decorations (they were definitely top twenty-five anyway) was a set of tartan throw pillows; one that said, 'naughty' and one that said, 'nice'. It gave Shane no end of joy to place the pillows on her bed, which or course was also Oliver's bed. It gave Shane joy because she gleefully placed the 'naughty' pillow on Oliver's side of the bed, and 'nice' on hers. Really, after the gingerbread fiasco, he kind of deserved it. Shane then metaphorically sat back and waited for the comment she was sure was coming her way. Instead, Oliver didn't make any kind of comment. He just swapped them without her knowledge. He was sly! That wasn't enough of a reaction! Shane decided to up her game.

The next day, Oliver was unsurprised to see Shane carrying an overly large tote bag into the DLO. He was fairly certain that he knew what was in it. Sure enough, upon his return from a trip to international shipping, he found the 'naughty' cushion on his chair, and Shane, Charlie Rita and Norman all trying to look busy while waiting around to see his reaction. Oliver was very proud of his lack of response as he almost sat on the offending item, deftly sweeping the item onto the floor behind his desk. He exercised patience, as he waited for the perfect opportunity to slip the cushion back into Shane's bag.

He was impressed that Shane didn't let on that she knew it was there. In fact, the first time he knew that she knew was when he found the cushion inside the DLO's small refrigerator. He left it there until he was sure that Charlie Norman and Rita were gone (and Shane ran an errand on the sorting floor) before taking it out, placing it on the floor under the swear jar. He also did a little decorating of his own, hanging a Christmas staple from the jar.

Shane entered the DLO and looked at her desk suspiciously. The pillow was not on her desk. She cautiously opened the drawers but could not see the item. It was not on the sofa, or with Bearthazar II.. hmm. Oliver stood and walked clockwise around his desk. That was odd, Shane thought, he usually went the other way… oh! She saw the cushion.

Shane walked over to where the offending item was on the floor, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

'Giving up, Mr O'Toole?' she asked.

'You should know better than that Mrs O'Toole. Perhaps you need to look a little more carefully at your surroundings.'

Shane walked over to cushion and picked it up. Oliver walked towards Shane, standing close to her with a superior smirk. He pointed up. Shane saw the mistletoe that decorated the swear jar and began to laugh.

'Well played, Mr O'Toole.'