Christmas Day
was bright and sunny, with not a snowflake in sight.
That was all right!
For the first time since we met each other 30+ years ago, my husband and I were alone for the holidays. In past years his parents were alive. We always went to someone's house, or someone came to ours, but now that all our siblings and we have adult offspring (and grandchildren!), schedules are harder to coordinate.
The dogs rejoice every day,
rain or shine, snow or fog, sleet or mud, no matter what event the calendar proclaims. The Day After Christmas was white, sort of, in places:
Bobi the Bad
offered us an extraordinary Christmas gift: he sat on Tim's lap!
You knew it wouldn't last.
Just lay out a freshly laundered blanket
to finish drying, and the cat vacates the lap.
Gifts still remain under the tree,
awaiting the grandchildren. Maybe this weekend? Maybe not.
Chicago, a few days before Christmas,
is where we celebrated with our New York City son who was in town for a jazz gig. Our daughter found a BMW decked with a wreath. Nice!
To Grandma's House we'll go
after Christmas for yet another get-together with another geographically estranged sibling.
I suggested we go caroling at a prison, but my husband vetoed that idea.
Homeless shelter? Hospital?
I think he didn't want to hear me belting out German carols. "Stille Nacht!"
I have decided not to share the history of that song, other than, it was in Germany, with guitar, not organ.