Every year around this time, I start to panic about getting the perfect Christmas gifts for everyone in my family. It rarely happens that I manage it (although in my ex-Navy son-in-law's case, I came close once with one of the vintage silk-scarf maps worn by pilots in WWII in case they got shot down). Most of the time I fall back on gift cards and cash, and then I’m disappointed in myself for yet another year. And as ever, I’m plagued with existential shopping questions. Why don’t I plan all year long instead of starting the month before Christmas? Why don’t I have a better understanding of what the people closest to me in the world would love to receive instead of a Nancy Pelosi coffee cup? Why do all my presents look like they were wrapped by creatures without opposable thumbs? Someone please stop me before I buy that karaoke machine on sale in desperation!

Holiday Panic Buying #1: I’ll try to suggest some things for your list over the next few weeks because I’m starting to panic, too.  A friend recommends the Amusewit electric pepper or salt grinder as an all-purpose, no-fail holiday/birthday/housewarming gift. It needs just one hand to operate--no twisting required as it’s gravity-activated. Just set the grind you want, turn it upside down and it does all the work. (Don’t forget the batteries!)

The 2021 Advent calendar from Canadian publisher Hingston & Olsen is a box of 25 individually sealed short stories from around the world, and for the first time, there’s a kids’ version, too, for ages 9+. Filled with stories about spaceships, best friends, scarecrows, fairies and more, it actually sounds more intriguing than the one for adults.

I have good memories of the Allison Krauss/Robert Plant (why is he still so dirtily sexy?) album Raising Sand, and now 14 years later, the unlikely duo is releasing a follow-up called Raise the Roof. The new album is once again produced by T-Bone Burnett, so it seems likely the same magic will be at work. 

In an article about rewilding your attention, NYT writer Clive Thompson observed that “good poetry can ring you like a bell.” It’s one of the most accurate descriptions I’ve seen about the effect poetry can have, and I thought of it when I was browsing through All of Us, the collected poems of the late Raymond Carver. I’ve always thought of Carver mainly in terms of short stories, but this book led me to achingly amazing poems that ring me like a holy church chime, a call to prayer, a temple bell.