An Intovert's Christmas Cabin

Let's have some fun! :) It was Christmas Eve in Wanda’s cabin, and while Bing Crosby crooned about snow, all she got was mud and drizzle. Her glowing reindeer, Blitz and Snark, stood bravely in the mushy yard, now adorned with sticky marshmallows she’d been flinging out the window in a self-declared war against boredom. Inside, Wanda had cranked the cheer to max. Twinkling lights adorned every corner, the fireplace roared like it was trying to outdo the sun, and Gerald, her mounted deer head, wore his lavender wreath with all the enthusiasm of someone who’d rather be elsewhere. “Cheer up, Gerald,” Wanda said, tossing a cookie at him. It bounced off his antlers and landed in the fire. Muffin the cat, observing from her perch on the couch, let out a judgy meow.Up in the loft, her bedroom was a Pinterest board come to life—fairy lights, cozy throws, and a window where Wanda kept tabs on Nutkins, the squirrel who raided her bird feeder daily. The mistletoe over the stairs? A disaster. After last week’s duct-tape rescue, it now hung like a warning sign, and Wanda avoided walking under it, muttering, “Not this time.” Downstairs, the kitchen looked like a festive tornado had hit. There was flour on the ceiling, chocolate on the walls, and her "gingerbread men" -in the basement coffee table, looked more like a crime scene. By midnight, Wanda had claimed her throne (aka the armchair) and was nestled in a fortress of throw pillows, bowl of cookie blobs in hand, watching the fire crackle with satisfaction. Outside, Blitz and Snark twinkled against the rain, marshmallow remnants clinging to their glowing frames. “Merry Christmas, Gerald,” Wanda said, raising her eggnog in a toast. Gerald didn’t reply—he never did—but Wanda could’ve sworn his shadow looked less annoyed. Somewhere in the distance, Nutkins chattered, probably about his scarf. It wasn’t a Hallmark movie Christmas, but it was hers, and Wanda wouldn’t have it any other way.

Let's have some fun! :) It was Christmas Eve in Wanda’s cabin, and while Bing Crosby crooned about snow, all she got was mud and drizzle. Her glowing reindeer, Blitz and Snark, stood bravely in the mushy yard, now adorned with sticky marshmallows she’d been flinging out the window in a self-declared war against boredom. Inside, Wanda had cranked the cheer to max. Twinkling lights adorned every corner, the fireplace roared like it was trying to outdo the sun, and Gerald, her mounted deer head, wore his lavender wreath with all the enthusiasm of someone who’d rather be elsewhere. “Cheer up, Gerald,” Wanda said, tossing a cookie at him. It bounced off his antlers and landed in the fire. Muffin the cat, observing from her perch on the couch, let out a judgy meow.Up in the loft, her bedroom was a Pinterest board come to life—fairy lights, cozy throws, and a window where Wanda kept tabs on Nutkins, the squirrel who raided her bird feeder daily. The mistletoe over the stairs? A disaster. After last week’s duct-tape rescue, it now hung like a warning sign, and Wanda avoided walking under it, muttering, “Not this time.” Downstairs, the kitchen looked like a festive tornado had hit. There was flour on the ceiling, chocolate on the walls, and her "gingerbread men" -in the basement coffee table, looked more like a crime scene. By midnight, Wanda had claimed her throne (aka the armchair) and was nestled in a fortress of throw pillows, bowl of cookie blobs in hand, watching the fire crackle with satisfaction. Outside, Blitz and Snark twinkled against the rain, marshmallow remnants clinging to their glowing frames. “Merry Christmas, Gerald,” Wanda said, raising her eggnog in a toast. Gerald didn’t reply—he never did—but Wanda could’ve sworn his shadow looked less annoyed. Somewhere in the distance, Nutkins chattered, probably about his scarf. It wasn’t a Hallmark movie Christmas, but it was hers, and Wanda wouldn’t have it any other way.