Wednesday That Works Like Friday

It works like Friday because it is my Friday. After today I don't have to work until next Monday so I have four glorious days off in a row. It's no mistake that those are the exact four days that DD & DIL2 will be home for Christmas. Can I plan or what? The weather's cooperating today too so that the girls aren't driving in snow, sleet or rain which they could very well be driving in in late December through the Midwest. Indiana is very long when the roads are bad. Hell, Indiana is very long anyway but especially when the weather doesn't cooperate. I got the tree up and decorated last night. I'll probably take it down on Tuesday after the girls leave but at least I've made the effort. (I'd better take its picture so I don't forget I put it up.) It occurred to me to print off a picture of a Christmas tree and just tape it to the living room window but then I decided that that was just too over the top Scrooge-y. Nothing is wrapped, no cookies have been made but it'll be Christmas anyway. We have the tree, gifts to give and our family will be with us. Yep, that's Christmas. I hear DS & DIL1 made English Toffee so we can cadge some of theirs (I'll offer to trade some Party Mix) and I plan to crank out some shortbread cookies and maybe spritz tomorrow or Friday, or maybe Saturday if that's the way the wind blows. I can get the girls to help; it'll be fun. Oh, and by the way, booger.

December 20--French, Parasol. Miss Elizabeth was very regular in her habits. She rose daily at 6:15 AM winter and summer. In the winter dark she drank her tea at the kitchen table watching the eastern sky lighten with the growing day. In the summer she carried her teapot and cup out to the patio where she could watch the drab little sparrows and the energetic chickadees at the feeder. When the sun was up over the horizon Miss Elizabeth would set down her tea cup and open her parasol. Not an umbrella, no, this was a silk and lace confection meant never to get wet. Its panels were painted in pastel scenes of millage life in Victorian times intercut by swaths of the most delicate lace and the lace edging was a full six inches deep. When her neighbor chided her for using such an ancient and delicate item in such a utilitarian way, Miss Elizabeth drew herself up to her full height of just barely five feet and said, "We were both created in the same year,the parasol and I, and since I am still in use, it should be too." And that was the end of that discussion.

Yoga after work tonight. Can't wait.

--Barbara