The Bag, part 2

Remember this blog entry?

Well, how loud did I yell when I looked down into the gift bag at my feet and saw this:

What a merry Christmas!  I am so easily amused.

And I don't think that's a bad thing . . .

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas from my crazy family to yours!

S'on Jeremy, Preschooler D, CAAB Rachel

Favorite S'daughter Shelby
 (who has a hard time smiling and keeping her eyes open.  We took 20 pictures to get this one.)

Colin

Big Daddy and me, your crazy hostess

Solstice Dance

Christmas is a Time for Miracles

The tile guy was here!  The tile guy was here!

I had to choose the color of my grout.  This decision sealed my choice to never ever build my own home.  I cannot handle it.

A Poem for Tuesday

I have two words for blog-reader friend Sue: Decapitated Reindeer.  If you were a small child in the Alexandria, Minn, area during the 1970s, you might know what I am talking about.  Alexandria has some city decorations that look like decapitated reindeer.  Sue insists it's just me.  If I get a chance to go past the street where these decorations are currently hanging, I will photograph them for you and you can decide.  Until then, you will just have to use your imagination.  I find them frightening.

In cheerier holiday news, here's a poem by the Wind in the Willows guy:

Christmas Carol
Kenneth Grahame

Villagers all, this frosty tide,
Let your doors swing open wide,
Though wind may follow, and snow beside,
Yet draw us in by your fire to bide;
    Joy shall be yours in the morning!

Here we stand in the cold and the sleet,
Blowing fingers and stamping feet,
Come from far away you to greet —
You by the fire and we in the street —
    Bidding you joy in the morning!

For ere one half of the night was gone,
Sudden a star has led us on,
Raining bliss and benison —
Bliss tomorrow and more anon,
    Joy for every morning!

Good man Joseph toiled through the snow —
Saw the star o'er a stable low;
Mary she might not further go —
Welcome thatch, and litter below!
    Joy was hers in the morning!

And then they heard the angels tell,
"Who were the first to cry Nowell?
Animals all, as it befell,
In the stable where they did dwell!
    Joy shall be theirs in the morning!"

School Concerts

Blog reader-friend Mary thought that I should blog today about singing in the alumni choir at Colin's concert yesterday, but there's not much to say.  I thought I didn't need the music.  I did.

It's been such a fun season of holiday school concerts with the sons.

Director son . . .

Middle school son . . .

Preschool son . . .

There are great disadvantages to having kids 21 years apart from oldest to youngest, but one of the advantages is there is very little fighting.  One of the most fun parts of these concerts for me was watching the brothers cheer one another on at each concert.  Oldest couldn't be at youngest one's school concert, but after Colin's concert he took time to hang out with just D which warmed the cockles of this mother's heart -- especially since he played a Wii game of which I have grown particularly weary.

Then Jeremy got in his new car and drove home to his own home where his wife was waiting.  That probably doesn't happen when your preschooler is done playing with his brother. HA!

FOUR! FOUR days to solstice!

Tree Topper

Maybe you know the story of how, when Cyberspace Sarah got married, she most looked forward to topping her tree with her own tree topper.  She could not have her own tree topper, though, because of the cute thing her husband had done as a small child.  One year while Brennan's family was decorating the tree, Brennan ever so innocently asked, "Why do we put a star on top of the tree?  Baby Jesus should go on the top of the tree.  Christmas is about Jesus." (or something like that.)  Cute right?  Thereafter his family's tree was topped by Baby Jesus and when Cyberspace got married, she married the Baby Jesus Tree Topper.

What was she supposed to say?  "There will be no Baby Jesus on my tree!"

No.  No.  No.

As her sister, I always found the story hilarious.  I take my tree toppers very seriously.  In fact, the reason Cyberspace looked forward to having her own tree was because my angel went on top of our tree at home.

So flash forward to this year when Preschooler D decorated the tree in our kitchen.  I went to the basement to dig out the hand blown glass topper I had gently and carefully hand carried home from Germany.  It's a thing of beauty.  Multi-colored. Shiny.  If you put it on the tree just right and the tree lights shine through it . . . brings tears to a gal's eye every time.

"Okay!"  said D.  "Now we need a Baby Jesus Christmas Star."

Um . . . but, son.  Look at Mother's beautiful hand blown glass topper.  Shiny.

"D," said I.  " We don't have a star.  We have this."

He looked at me.  "We could make one."

And so we did. And, you know what?  It's beautiful.  Multi-colored.  Shiny.  If you put it on the tree and the lights hit it just right . . . brings a tear to a mother's eye every time.