Christmas dinner is at my house this year. It's a first in many, many, many years. I'm feeling rusty, but I know it will work out just fine. There'll be 9 of us. I have my list and won't stress (too much) about it. Today I'm making the Cranberry Sherbet, doing more cleaning and washing the wine glasses.
I won't be dreaming about a white Christmas... because we'll have one.
A winter storm is heading our way. Between tonight and Saturday, they say we'll get a foot or more of snow... which will add to the 4 inches already on the ground.
The shovels are ready. It's a good workout.
We don't always have snow on the ground at Christmas. Around here they call that a brown Christmas. I love snow at Christmas.
It's going to feel like living in a snow globe.
I saw the poem below on Paula's blog and she said I could share it with you. (I'm still amazed at the countries that are represented on the blogs; Paula's from Luxembourg. Pretty cool.)
Twas the night before Christmas, I'm glued to the tree.
I'm wondering what Santa brought just for me.
Could it be fat quarters or a pattern or lace?
Or a quilt kit, I said, with a smile on my face.
And that's when I heard him, "Hi Santa," I said.
"You know....good little girls should be in their beds ."
"I know I should Santa, and now I've got caught.
But I was just so excited to see what you brought."
"Well, let's take a look in this room where you work."
He shook his head quickly and left with a jerk.
I heard him exclaim as he put it in gear.
"You've got enough stuff, I'll see you next year!"
Santa's clearly not a quilter. LOL.