Hi Everyone and Happy November,
I love autumn, the cooler weather, the leaves turning, the cider - okay - those are things I used to love about living in New York. In the deep south, we have two seasons - hot and not so hot. Every once in a while, we might have a span of say, four or five days, when I get to wear my sweatshirt with the cardinals on it, my particular favorite, but not terribly often.
We don't have leaves turning or real cider either, but a girl can dream. We do have a fireplace, and if I have to lower the air conditioner to 60, we have fires at night, starting about the time Thanksgiving rolls around. I love this time of year and as they say, I make it my own.
The calls for pumpkin pie have already started to come in, lest I forget what is really important about the season. Of course, pumpkin pie is my favorite, so there will be many, for we eat them for breakfast as well. Pumpkin is a vegetable or a fruit, depending upon which argument you prefer. The pie has milk and eggs, which makes it passable as healthy. Yes, pumpkin pie replaces toast or biscuits as the breakfast of champions and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Now, as for November leading into the Christmas season, well, I have had to slow that down a bit. Since I am busy writing a good deal of the time I used to use to shop and decorate, the family has had to make due with less. Less decorating that is. Since my daughter "volunteered" to host Christmas last year, it stands to reason that it was a blanket volunteer until the year 2020 or there abouts. I've done it forever, and I do mean forever and now I pass the mantle onto her capable shoulders.
My wonderful beauty has served as the family Santa since she learned to read everyone's names. In transferring the festivities to her home is my way of giving her the complete picture of how the whole program works. She has the jingle bell elf hat, cute on anyone of any age, as long as it isn't me, and she loves to play hostess. Her home is appropriately decorated and her husband apparently loves to do dishes, because every time I'm there, he's doing them.
My grandson, adorable and coming up on teenage much too quickly, seemed pleased when he discovered we were going to his house for Christmas and he didn't have to leave. I am nothing if not accommodating.
Fear not, our home will have a Christmas tree this year, and the symbolic gifts underneath, which will be picked up and carted, I mean taken gently to our daughter's home. All will be brightly wrapped and labeled and we will share in the joy of seeing the hard work on Christmas Eve torn to shreds not eight hours later. Then we will enjoy a really wonderful meal, prepared by someone other than me and my husband, a Christmas gift beyond imagination.
All will be well - if only I can find that game my grandson asked for - the one with the warriors in some kind of costumes, with guns or something or other protruding from their hands - doggone it, I wish I'd listen closer when he was asking for it.
Author in the SpotlightBrita Addams
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