The morning is cloudy. We have a wind alert with possible 45 mph gusts. All the tree trunks are swaying. The smaller branches are being blown in clusters. I wouldn’t be surprised to lose another pine tree. They have such shallow roots. It is 37°, but the wind makes the air feel chillier, down into the 20’s. Both rain and snow are predicted, but not any snow accumulation, dashing the hope for a white Christmas. When they first went out, the dogs romped. Nala ran round and round in the backyard. She came inside panting. Henry did a short run. Both are now sleeping on the couch.

Any kid will tell you the longest day of the year is not the summer solstice. It is Christmas Eve. Night never seems to come. I remember trying to convince my mother I was exhausted and needed to go to bed around five or six. It didn’t happen. We sometimes watched A Christmas Carol, the one with Alastair Sims, my all time favorite. Even now I watch it every year. When I finally went to bed, I decided I would stay awake to catch Santa. That never happened. I was too tired and Santa was too stealthy.

We had sort of an attic, actually more of a space with wood planks and insulation between them. The upstairs hall was small. Around it were three bedrooms and the bathroom. In the ceiling was a trap door leading to the pseudo attic. A ladder was there once the door was opened. One Christmas, activity in the hall woke me up. My father was on the ladder handing presents to my mother. I heard sort of a tinkling sound. It was one of those push toys which spun and played music. I knew it was for my youngest sister. I couldn’t go back to sleep. After my parents had gone downstairs, I sneaked down the stairs to watch them put out the presents. I only watched for a little while then went back to sleep.

Yesterday I shopped for dinner. I had been given money and gift cards so I filled my carriage. I bought snacks for tonight and food for my Christmas dinner. I splurged and bought a beautiful piece of beef, squash, carrots and mashed sweet potatoes. I bought decorated cupcakes for dessert. I bought a chocolate Santa. I bought treats for Nala, Henry and Jack. We are all going to celebrate.

I thank you all for always dropping by, and I wish you the merriest of Christmases.

Today is cloudy and cold. Light rain is predicted. That seems so bah-humbug, but the adult me is happy about the forecast. The child in me is disappointed.

We’ve always called today Christmas Eve Eve. On our Advent calendar for the 23rd, shepherds and a lamb or two were often inside the little door. They were getting ready for the big day. We always knew that on the 24th, the Nativity was inside the door flap. The shepherds and angels were always there. I remember many of our Advent calendars had silver glitter. Some always fell off when you opened a door. We used to take turns opening the little doors.

My mother baked all the traditional sweets for Christmas. Always, there were sugar cookies and spritz cookies. I have her spritz maker. It took me a while to learn to drop the dough so the cookies were the perfect shape. I color mine red and green. Sometimes the dough is both colors when I switch from one color to another. My mother made pies, always an apple and a lemon meringue. One year, when I was an adult, my mother made bread in the shape of a gingerbread man and also made biscotti.

I remember one year we had a two week Christmas vacation. The school district was trying to save money by not having to heat the buildings. I went right away to my parents’ house. It was the best time. Every day, my mother and I baked cookies, all sorts of cookies, even new ones we’d never made. While the cookies were baking, we’d play Big Boggle. My mother would have her signature drink, whiskey and coke. I’d have egg nog and Kahula. After the last cookies came out of the oven, we’d clean up the kitchen and keep playing Big Boggle. We used to put the new cookies on Christmas plates on the dining room table for everyone to taste. We ran out of Tupperware containers. They were filled with cookies and piled under the table.

Today I need to do a bit of shopping including buying a good piece of meat for my Christmas dinner. That description of the meat had my sister and me roaring laughing. That is what my father always said. I don’t remember the last time I heard it, this dad memory. It just popped right out of memory drawer. I’m so glad it did.