Christmas time is here and I'm not ready, again. The tree is up with lights, no ornaments. Wreath has been hung on the front door, without bells. Gus is wearing his Christmas kerchief, oh, there it goes, guess he wasn't into it after all. Chicken castle is finished, but they won't roost in it, preferring the branches of their tree. If it gets any colder we'll have Chick on a Stick for Christmas.
I did manage to re-grout the entire firebox of the fireplace today, so maybe a warming fire as soon as it cures. The emergency, err, Christmas candles are lit.
The spirit has not come over me, yet. I'm trying to make all the presents, but only have them half finished. Have you ever tried to knit and sew at the same time?
Things are so very expensive, and all the commercialism is depressing. Then Himself says that they are going to be laid off work the last two weeks of the year, possibly longer. Come on spirit I need you now. What are the words to that song, aah yes, "sounds like life to me"!
What I really wanted to tell you about was my flannel Granny. I have such great memories of my Granny. She introduced me to Shakespearean theater, the train, the mountain cabin, books, milk cows, books, mules, and the opera in SF.
Every Christmas she got each of us grand kids a pair of flannel jammies. They were homemade when we were little, and always of the best flannel to be had. As we got older they were often store bought but still of that wonderfully thick material. We weren't always appreciative of our flannel jammies, mostly because we knew what was in our boxes on Christmas Day. No surprises there. But the thing is, out of all the presents we have gotten over the years, Granny's flannel jammie presents, are the ones that we all remember. Even after all this time, get the cousins together and the flannel jammies from Granny stories are sure to come up, with laughter to follow. Thanks Granny, miss you, love you, flannel forever.
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