I put on my mittens, closed the fireplace doors, all ready for a trip to see light displays in the city, shows of frosted evergreen trees with bright red stars. We opened the windows causing a shiver to the snuggery inside the car.
The last Christmas display made the Griswold’s look miniature! On the way home we stopped by a coffee shop to enjoy a mug of cocoa.
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/12/21/wordle-220/
Be the Christmas wish
Open hearts provide solace
Longed for peace will come
***
I was reminded by a blogger today of my childhood involving stockings hung up for Santa to fill. It was my favorite thing instead of a present. I carried on the tradition with my own children and they do the same. A stocking is full of small delights.
As children in the 40s and 50s, we would fight for our grandmothers’ longest heavy nylon brown stockings because they were stretchy. Our grandmothers would pull them on, roll over on their thighs, and secure with a band or garter. To add to the length our mom would always place an orange in the toe.
As a mom myself, I would sometimes find a dry discarded orange days later, under a bed😄. My inner child doesn’t stay inside for long. ☺️
***
https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2020/12/21/what-do-you-see-61-21st-december-2020/
You have to admire his strength as he rings the bells, a time old tradition in the church.The familiar tones billow a message of hope throughout the village. These days as inept pleas of peace on earth are offered, the chimes remind us we are only humbled humans.
***
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2020/12/21/rdp-monday-billow/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/12/21/bells/
Twas four days before Christmas, and all through the town
We looked for our dinner but no turkey was found
The shoppers looked high and the shoppers looked low
The shoppers even trudged through the snow
And as we prepared dinner using tofu
There was no joy in Mudville for me or you.
***
True story, no turkeys anywhere in Cheyenne😆
He gasped at the bright shine of the light in his face. The flashlight blinded him and the dog barking loudly was so frightening he could hardly breathe.
It seemed his odd show of remorse in such a divine garden, however well intentioned, was against the law. He could only taste acrid spit from his stomach as they pushed him along the graveyard path. He only wanted to express his sadness at her passing, but ended up falling asleep after the ritual in the cemetery.
His efforts to paste a favorable picture of his intentions that morning was not convincing. They couldn’t follow his plan, thinking he was there only to destroy, not worship.
He expelled a sigh as they opened the cell door.
***
***
Dear Santa,
Believe it or not, I still think you do exist. I know that’s rare these days, even with little children. But like most things, if you believe hard enough, you can make things come true. So I’m trying hard this year, especially.
It also helps that your reindeer are standing on my lawn eating my grass.
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