We didn’t buy many books growing up. Sure, we had a lot of books in the house, but most of them were older, from my parents’ childhood or childless years. There just wasn’t the money to purchase anything and everything all of us wanted to read throughout the year.

But on birthdays and Christmas? There were always books to open, and I always looked forward to the new worlds I’d get to explore. One year, my great-grandmother gave me a copy of The Secret Garden with gorgeous illustrations by Tasha Tudor, and I learned about life as a child in a time long ago and a country far away. When I was a little older, paperback copies of Dragonsong and Dragonsinger from my uncle sparked a lifelong love of fantasy. And I’d wager that reading about pioneers like Kirsten Larson and Laura Ingalls is what set me on this eventual path of homesteading and living simply. I have my original copies of all of those books, waiting to be shared with my own little ones, though I’m sure they will have their own list of influential titles someday.

I still don’t buy many books, unless I’ve already read something several times and would like to have it for my own. Most of what we purchase anymore is for the girls, or as a reference tool around the house. Instead, we prefer to use our library, placing reserves online on Tuesday and Wednesday nights, and picking them up on Friday when we go to story hour. This way I’m able to sit down when it’s quiet, plan out our week and check out the reading lists other homeschooling families post. I’ve found wonderful stories this way, many that were completely new to me beforehand.

This month, we’ve found ourselves doing something I’ve recently seen termed as “Christmas-schooling.” We’ve unintentionally abandoned our practice of week-long unit studies in favor of making merry: counting down with our Advent calendar, practicing fractions while baking cookies, getting exercise through sledding and snow play, and reading many, many Christmas books. Again, we’ve found more than a handful that were new to me, titles going far beyond the Grinch and his sad little dog. Several have even brought me to tears (not really a difficult feat anymore, truly).

So I thought I’d share what has been in our library bag lately. Whether you’re looking for something to put under the tree, or add to your personal collection, or just put on reserve at your own library, here are some we’ve been enjoying.

Who’s That Knocking on Christmas Eve, Christmas Trolls, The Wild Christmas Reindeer – We really like Jan Brett’s work, and her Christmas titles were no exception. The girls love to predict what will happen next in the story based on the pictures in the borders, and these three have such beautiful Scandinavian patterns.

The Story of Holly and Ivy, The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey, The Year of the Perfect Christmas Tree – These are the three that pulled so hard at my mama heart. All of them opened conversations about topics that are a little sad and difficult, and that deal with loss: orphans, widows and widowers, soldiers away at war. And all of them have such a humanity to them, you can’t help but feel for the characters.

Wolf Christmas, A Christmas Tree in the White House, How Santa Got His Job, An Otis Christmas – Some lighter selections for balance. These were fun, and Wolf Christmas and Otis were read several times before being returned. They’re cute stories, and made all of us smile.

Night Tree, The Nutcracker – These are the two that I’ve purchased for our own collection. We’ve read Night Tree five or six times already, and someone will find The Nutcracker under the tree next week. Both will become family favorites, I hope.

What are you reading at your house? Any suggestions for me to add to our list of reserves?

It’s late afternoon now, and the flakes have been falling since shortly after Beanie dragged me out of bed. That was before the sun, if you were wondering, and we had to turn lights on to make coffee. I walked out the back door, and despite the duration of the snowfall, it doesn’t seem to have amounted to much. It’s powdery, and swirled around my boots as I scuffed down the driveway to the mailbox with my trusty mutt. I stalk the mail carrier this time of year, eager for the cards carrying love and good wishes from across the map. The box had one card inside, and with it in hand, we shuffled back to visit the chickens and check for eggs. Our sleds are lined up along the front of the shed, but they won’t see much use until the snow’s a bit heavier.

My little flock hasn’t ventured outside today, despite half of their run being covered. They were hanging out just inside the door when I opened it to check for eggs, and craned their necks to peer at me with their beady little eyes. I should have taken treats with me. Can you see poor bedraggled Buttercup on the right? She’s the black Australorp, and she is in the middle of a bad, late molt. She’s also at the bottom of the pecking order, and receives a strike to the back anytime she passes another bird too closely. I’ve been sprinkling extra sunflower seeds right below her beak when the others are distracted. We’re already talking about preparing for spring chicks, figuring out how to build a brooder box in the basement since we no longer have an extra bathtub. I’ve got my sights set on a dozen sexed chicks, and may even go the mail order route. That beautiful Lavender Orpington from the Fair is dancing in my dreams. And I’d love to get a couple Aracaunas and have blue eggsin my nesting boxes… ah. Such are the things that make up my wishlist.

We’ve got a real tree in the living room, dressed in ornaments from our childhoods, and a few from adulthood too. Hanging together on the left side are photos of five-year-old me facing five-year-old J. I need to craft some of our girls to join them, I think – a craft that absolutely needs to be done NOW and not someday. A tree skirt has been on my someday list for at least ten years now, and I’m still wrapping an old white bedsheet around the stand. I’ve set my little faux tree in the upstairs hallway to shine out the front window. I paid $30 for it after Christmas at a Joann Fabrics back in 2005, and it’s starting to look a little squished…and some of the lights on the back don’t work…but it’s lovely from the road. This is certainly not an Instagram- or Pinterest-perfect Christmas family, and I think that’s ok. We’re cozy.

Tonight I’m working on some little gifties for friends and neighbors, and finally getting my Christmas cards prepped (after a reprint and then a refund from another discount company, this batch from AmazonPrints looks perfect). J is home tonight, and I’m looking forward to sitting by the fire with him. Even if we’re both working independently on homework and projects, we’ll be together.

Before our Thanksgiving guests even left, I was on a plane to Atlanta for several days of training and team-building with my colleagues. I’m a high-strung traveler, and I can admit it now. I used to try and play it cool, outwardly rolling with the punches while having an internal meltdown, but I’ve decided that this is me, and if I need to arrive at an airport the full two hours before my scheduled departure in order to maintain my sanity, so be it. Sadly, I live quite a ways from the airport and so I found myself pulling out of the driveway at 2:30am the Sunday after Thanksgiving.

It was a solid trip. I experienced minimal delay on the way out, and got to have dinner with my aunt and uncle and cousin the first night there. I honestly enjoy my colleagues – we’re blessed to have such a great staff, and it’s nice to talk to people in person when they’re usually a floating head on a web call. So it was a good trip. And it kicked my butt.

I didn’t bounce back this time. I made a conscious effort to be in bed before 10pm every night I was away, and it was still a slow crawl back into real life. I shared on Instagram a little bit of my struggle to readjust, and I think I’m finally back to normal today, a full week after coming home.

It was a week of making merry, of diving fully into the new holiday season. We cut our tree the day after I got home, choosing to frequent the same place we’ve gone the past two years. The proprietor greeted us by name when we pulled in, and we had the place to ourselves as we inspected each tree. The girls each took a turn at the saw, and an eight foot tree found its way into the bed of the truck. We do not quite have eight foot ceilings, but we do now have a green scrape in the paint over our heads, and a tree with no topper.

We enjoyed a teeny homegrown Christmas fair at Beanie’s nursery school. I made blondies for the bake sale, and we shopped the used toy collection, coming home with a big bag of Duplos and two like-new puzzles for a small donation – a Dr. Seuss alphabet and a Scholastic beginning sounds (this one is pretty great, and both girls worked really hard on it without getting frustrated).

We made an attempt at spritz cookies, finally using the electric cookie press my mom had given me quite a few years back, and took a huge plate of them along with us to the tree lighting at the community center. It was a community-wide event, with multiple groups taking charge of various parts. Our librarians read a story and organized a craft. My fellow board members organized the cookie donations and served hot chocolate. The fire department and events committee set up a campfire and roasted marshmallows on the beach, and some of the local men strung the lights and flipped the switch at the appointed hour. Santa himself arrived in his SmartCar and had a present for each child. Truly, one of my favorite events of the year.

I’m finishing up teacher gifts, one for each of Beanie’s nursery school teachers, and one for Sweebee’s piano instructor. I’ve got three dishcloths finished, and need to cast on the fourth tomorrow. I had thought I would wrap them around a bottle of Mrs. Meyer’s dish soap, but was cautioned by a scent-sensitive former colleague, and went for fancy chocolate instead (and these Dagoba bars are under $2 each at Target right now with your Cartwheel!).

Swee and I did a little shopping to fulfill a request from the town’s Giving Tree, choosing warm socks and a simple fleece and shirt for a neighbor in need. My girls are such kind little souls, it’s not taken much reminding at all to get them thinking of others. It’s enough to bring me to tears.

**Speaking of tears, several of these Christmas books have been real tear-jerkers, like The Year of the Perfect Christmas Tree and The Story of Holly and Ivy. I’ll be sharing more of our reading selections in the side bar on the right, as well as in posts here and there using affiliate links, and would appreciate your clicks, if you’re so inclined.

Why affiliate links? By clicking a blogger’s Amazon affiliate link, they will receive a tiny portion of anything you buy at Amazon during the 24 hours after clicking – even your normal household goods. It’s a small way to help my family on this adventure, so thank you for clicking!