I took a drive today through the town that I grew up in. Both my daughters, a 5 month old and 3 year old, were asleep in the backseat and I had some time to explore the places of great memory. It was raining today, a cold post-thanksgiving day. I drove by the house I lived in during High-School. No doubt many recollections flooded my mind. Mowing the lawn, sitting on the roof outside my bedroom in the middle of the night, getting the mail, eating dinners… Maybe most of all I remembered Christmas in that house. The electric candles that used to be in the windows, the smell of the natural Christmas tree that used to sit in that living room, and all the times with family eating pot roast, turkey and ham, drinking coffee at 10pm and watching the 1950’s version of Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. Great memories of our lives lie in all these hidden corners and nooks of our history- the dwellings we once inhabited, and the places our minds wander often.