I’ve had opulent Christmases where opening presents was a long, drawn out affair. And, I’ve had lean Christmases where money was scarce. I’ve seldom had a Christmas where we just intentionally bought each other a small gift so we could do something else…in this case, put new carpet in the family room that we recently painted. I have to tell you, it felt good to not have to worry about shopping, wrapping, paying for, and storing more “stuff” while still having a small token to enjoy.
He held three beautiful children on his lap that afternoon in the mall. Three shining faces, looking up at him in rapt attention, their eyes glittering in awe. He’d done this many times over the years…listening to the repeated requests for dolls, trucks, maybe a baby brother or sister once in awhile. It never got old with him. He was born to be Santa!
As the children got up one by one and gave the jolly man a hug, they smiled into the camera for that “Christmas Card shot” and he sent them on their way with a candy cane and a wave. He looked around and saw the line had finally thinned and he could take a much needed break. That’s when he saw her.
If you look at the photo on the left, you see a healthy young owl. You also see a bird from the Arctic that knows nothing about roads. Here it sits in the middle of Emerson Avenue…a busy two lane blacktop north of Parkersburg.
The photo on the right shows the same bird but notice his right wing. It’s now much lower and the bird is remarkably thinner. My birder friend, Julie Zickefoose, surmised it had been injured in some way in the two weeks between pictures and could no longer hunt properly. It turns out, she was correct. Someone came forward this week to say he had hit this snowy owl up on Emerson Avenue when it swooped down in front of him. Mystery solved.
I remember going caroling as a young girl. A group of my friends and I would gather and roam the neighborhood, ringing doorbells then singing carols to the family who answered. Of course they were home. It was just after dinner time…families were always home at dinner time.
I loved Christmas when I lived in England. Steeped in such old world traditions, carolers there literally looked as though they had just stepped from the pages of a Charles Dickens novel. Wassail is both a greeting and a drink. Traditional wassail is a complicated affair that includes eggs. This recipe is more like what we call spiced, or mulled, cider. Victorians carried a bowl of wassail out into the street and sold cupfuls for pennies. A bit of toasted bread was placed on top. Hence, the expression…”Let’s have a toast!” when you raise your glass.
I first met Sheba Wheeler at a holiday dinner at The Warwick Hotel in downtown Denver. Mr. Virgo was the Food & Beverage Director and had invited me to come down to the restaurant so we could at least see each other that day. Seating was limited so singles were being asked to buddy up at tables. I always enjoy family style seating as I get the opportunity to meet interesting people.
I love how Facebook can bring folks together that may never meet otherwise. That’s the case of Julie Zickefoose and me. When I was writing posts about the spring bird migration at the farm, a mutual friend “introduced” me to Julie. She is an artist and recently came out with a lovely book called Baby Birds. An artist’s view into the nests of birds in the Appalachian foothills of Ohio.
I really love living out in the country. It’s peaceful. There’s lots of wildlife. It’s a slower life. I like life slow. I don’t like slow internet, however. Being a writer is a beautiful thing…until I’m standing with my cell phone over my head waving it around like a dead chicken, trying to get just…one…more…bar. It can be maddening.
Many of the images I use in my posts are really large…especially since I got my new iPhone. Great camera equals great pictures. Great pictures equals larger file size. That presents two problems. One, Wordpress only accepts files up to a certain size. Two, internet in the country is powered by two squirrels and a possum! It sometimes takes multiple attempts to get a photo or meme down to an acceptable size. That takes time and patience.
Mr. FixIt and I went Christmas shopping yesterday. As much as I hate to go to Walmart, especially during the holiday shopping frenzy, we went looking for a specific item we weren’t finding elsewhere. When we arrived at the store, I excused myself to the ladies room.
There was a bit of a line, as one might imagine with half the town out and about the weekend before Christmas. The woman in front of me had a full shopping cart of merchandise and a cell phone in her hand. She had the phone on speaker and it was ringing…unanswered. She turned to me and said, “Go ahead…I have to do this.”
These dishes! Man, do these take me back. When I lived at home, I set the table every night with these dishes for as far back as I can remember. I know the Golden Wheat pattern by Homer Laughlin came from boxes of Duz Detergent. The green pattern was also from Homer Laughlin and was called Pastoral. It came in boxes of Mother’s Oats. Mom would get gas every couple of days so she could get glasses from the service stations. And the only “china” she ever owned came from the Kroger Store. I had a set as well. I had some white teacups with a gold rim on them that came from my grandma. She saved them and kept them nice to use at her and Pop-Pop’s Golden 50th, but he passed away two months before their anniversary. I can’t remember but I might have given them to my cousin so she would have some precious family keepsakes.
