Some of my friends here have posted their decorations. I have instructions stored somewhere on my hard drive for how to put multiple photos into blogs. But I'm too tired to look at them right now, so I'll just post this one photo.
My mother made both the tree and the nativity figurines a number of years ago. She was really into ceramics before she moved south. Even had her own kiln. These are my favorite decorations.
I am eating WAY too many of these Christmas cookies:
They are so yummy!
My grandma's recipe. And probably her grandma's before her.
They taste exactly like Christmas.
I wish I had a camera that could show the view from me:
Peripheral and everything I do and do not see.
And it would have to focus without zooming, and should stay
Attentive to the details and wide angles of each day.
Photographic memories! I’ve heard some people have them.
Not me, though, only words are stored, retrievable at random.
I cannot tell you what I saw unless I first told me!
Word pictures I’ll remember. That’s why I write poetry.
The Night Before Christmas -- 1967
S'posta be a big storm comin' ... Just looks like normal snow so far.
Youngest son is of the opinion it ought to wait a day, so they can close the schools on Monday.
Stopped by yahoo 360 the other day ... read a coupla blogs ... even left a coupla comments.
So, to my initial delight, I get email alerts from 360 that somebody's commented to my page over there.
Click the links. Then ... Huh?
Well, guys, remember a month or so ago when everything over there was disappearing? Guess it's been floatin' round in cyberspace. Landed in my email today. Comments from October.
Guess I'll tag this one "back to the future" ... Grin
Someone who matters a good deal to me
has changed something on his MySpace page
In his profile
Where they ask your religion
He used to have "atheist"
Today it says "Christian"
No other commentary, wee little hopes.
R.K.
(Oh, BTW -- you won't find him by going to my MySpace page ... he's not in my friends list. I just know how to find him.)
Ladybug, Ladybug
Fly away home
Your house is on fire
Your children will burn
I’d fly home if I could,
But I’m lost in this weed.
The flower I’d chosen
Has all gone to seed.
The seeds have made wings
Of their own, and I fear
The wind will blow them and me
So far from here
My children will burn
‘Fore my wings touch the sky
Why did I choose this damn flower?
Oh why?
-- Poem by Rani Kaye
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