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I had a whole slew of things planned for the last week before Christmas. None of them actually happened. Instead, there was sickness and rain. So much rain. The kind of rain that even we Washington-hardened individuals look at and say, “Nah. We’ll stay inside, thanks.”
So instead of outings and events and outdoor fun, there was solitaire. And Morphology, and Sushi Go Party! , and 3D Feel and Find. There was the delivery of pots of soup and bread (this recipe is a favorite) to folks recovering from things far more serious than our lingering coughs. There was mitten knitting (from this book), and my first go at a picot edging, and a lame attempt at my behalf on hiding a Christmas gift in plain sight. And there was reading, of course. The Vanderbeekers of 141st Street for fun, Daughter of the Mountains as a school read for the littles, and The Screwtape Letters for us older people in the evenings. Birdie finished Betsy-Tacy and Tib, John Mark started in on Jack’s much-loved antique copy of Winnie-the-Pooh, and Mary Hannah and I finally convinced Mathaus to give The Time Traveler’s Wife a chance.
So the week wasn’t a wash. Not by a long shot. It wasn’t what I had hoped or expected, but it was full of hours spent together, enjoying one another and resting in an anticipatory peace I hadn’t quite seen coming. We’re ready for Christmas now. Ready for the Son… and hopefully even the sun.
Merry Christmas, to you and yours!