Winter Christmas Day Waning Moon of the Winter Solstice
Kate got me a very funky, floppy, curly haired Woolly Mammoth. I’ve plopped him on the grand piano for now. He awaits a name, which has not come to me yet.
Santa passed us by otherwise, going on to homes with little boys and girls, waking up bright eyed, eager, hopeful. The run up to Christmas with movies, music, lights, commercials, worship services, letters to the editor complaining about this aspect or another of how we celebrate it, cranks everybody into a mild, or not so mild, frenzy, hoping, hoping, hoping that their strategy for this Christmas will be the one. It was here.
We eased through the holidays on a slow, modest note with a few gifts sent out to the grandkids and kids, not much else.
