Some Folks Like It :-)

Here Comes the Sun: Revelers Celebrate Summer Solstice at Ancient Monument of Stonehenge

Of course they're wearing coats. It wasn't already 70°F at sunrise; no wonder they don't mind.

It's 45°F in Sydney right now...let's go!

English Heritage's Stonehenge Site.

Science World explains the Solstice.

Various summer solstice religious celebrations.

Christmas in July June

I went back to Book Nook this morning to get the Eric Sloane book and just happened to turned around where they kept the VHS Christmas material. I was quite happy to find a copy of The Night Before Christmas, which is a late 1960s cartoon that features the voice of Olan Soule (veteran radio performer and also the voice of the father in Disney's The Small One) as Clement C. Moore in this fictionalized account of how the good doctor wrote "A Visit from St. Nicholas." The poem is sung by the Norman Luboff Choir, but it's the arrangement done by Ken Darby for Fibber McGee and Molly on radio in the 1940s.

I also found a Readers Digest produced tape called Christmas Around the World with Perry Como, a 112 minute compilation of six of his classic Christmas specials: Colonial Williamsburg, France, Quebec, Mexico, Austria, and the Holy Land.

So I spent a lovely afternoon watching both tapes and then listening to Christmas music. Schuyler seemed to like it and has been cheeping, chirping, and even giving little scolds all afternoon and evening.

What to My Wondering Eyes Did Appear...

In Hobby Lobby the other day and there are fall wreaths scattered about, and fall leaves under some of the displays. At the opposite end of the store they had already stocked an aisle with Christmas "picks" and half an aisle with Christmas ribbon. very heartening, considering they're predicting 90°F plus coming up.

It has been a rather Christmas-y day today, as we had cloudy skies and a breeze. We stopped at Book Nook, a local used bookstore, and I found these:

• Mary Englebreit's Believe
• The Merry Christmas Book (Ideals compilation book
• Christmas Treasury from Guideposts
also America Celebrates, also from Ideals, with selections from each holiday, Christmas at the end, and of course also New Year's and Thanksgiving

Happy St. George's Day!

From the Woodlands Junior School site:

"St George is the patron saint of England. His emblem, a red cross on a white background, is the flag of England, and part of the British flag. St George's emblem was adopted by Richard The Lion Heart and brought to England in the 12th century. The king's soldiers wore it on their tunics to avoid confusion in battle... [o]ne of the best-known stories about St George is his fight with a dragon. But it is highly unlikely that he ever fought a dragon, and even more unlikely that he ever actually visited England. Despite this, St George is known throughout the world as the dragon-slaying patron saint of England."

St. George's Day: A Site for England

Woodlands Junior School's St. George's Day Entry

Celebrating St. George's Day

The BBC's Brief St. George's Day Entry

Wikipedia Entry on St. George's Day

Answers.com St. George's Day Entry

Today is also celebrated as Shakespeare's birthday.

232nd Anniversary

Written April 19, 1860.

Paul Revere's Ride
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,—
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street
Wanders and watches, with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,—
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread
Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay,—
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse's side,
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer's dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,
And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadow brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled,—
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,—
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

The Paul Revere House Website has a true account of the ride (he actually didn't make the entire route) along with a history of Revere.

A fictitious but entertaining account of Paul Revere, his ride, and the beginnings of the Revolutionary War is told in Robert Lawson's delightful Mr. Revere and I.

Today is the 232nd anniversary of "the shot heard 'round the world" at the bridge at Concord, Massachusetts:

Concord Hymn
Ralph Waldo Emerson

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
     Their flag to April's breeze unfurled;
Here once the embattled farmers stood;
     And fired the shot heard round the world.

The foe long since in silence slept;
     Alike the conqueror silent sleeps,
And Time the ruined bridge has swept
     Down the dark stream that seaward creeps.

On this green bank, by this soft stream,
     We place with joy a votive stone,
That memory may their deeds redeem,
     When, like our sires, our sons are gone.

O Thou who made those heroes dare
     To die, and leave their children free, --
Bid Time and Nature gently spare
     The shaft we raised to them and Thee.

A firsthand account of the battle.

The National Park Site.

My Favorite Easter Cartoon

I forgot to post this on Sunday.

Ham, Lamb and Chocolate Bunnies

Easter Foods: History & Symbolism

I haven't had hot cross buns in years. I wouldn't even know where to get them.

We learned this in school:

Hot cross buns,
Hot cross buns,
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot cross buns.
Buy them for your daughters,
Buy them for your sons,
One a penny, two a penny,
Hot cross buns.

We'd get them from the bakery, fresh and sometimes warm. Mom used to glare at me because I scraped the icing that formed the cross off the top. I'm sorry: I hate icing.

"The Day of the Last Supper"

CATHOLIC ENCYCLOPEDIA: Maundy Thursday (Holy Thursday)

Holy Thursday at Catholic Online

Holy Thursday at Fisheaters.com

Holy Thursday at Women for Faith & Family

Maundy Thursday Traditions at Woodlands Junior School site—what's this about "Maundy money"?

Holy Thursday at the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America

Holy Week at Ken Collins' site

Easter Rebirth

I've had an Easter tree (photo here) for some years, purchased when Michael's originally started selling them over a half-dozen years ago. As you can see, it's a very basic Easter tree, with spare white, straight branches. The support block, which is also white, I've always buried under Easter grass as shown.

This year Michael's has a "hipped-up" Easter tree which I've been looking at with some envy. The ends of its white branches are curled and it has leaves and tiny flowers wound around its stem. I considered buying it, but it's so overly decorated that I thought it would take away from the cute little Easter tree ornaments that I've bought over time. I wanted a bit of an update, not a major overhaul.

So that's what I've been doing this afternoon.

First I found Mom's old looping pliers that she used for her jewelry work. She always bought her own tools because the pliers and things they provided at Tesoro didn't always fit her hands. I curled the end of each branch in a C-shape and then, on the longer branches, I also put little coils in them, one on the shorter of the long branches, a double coil on the very longest branches.

Then I dug out my embroidery threads and pulled about eighteen inches off each of these colors: lavender, pale blue, spring green, a bright pink, and yellow. I separated them out to two threads each and then took turns winding the colored threads around the trunk as you would do with ribbons on a maypole. I tied them at the top and then used a bit of tape to secure them at the bottom.

I'm presently waiting for the pale blue that I painted the base to dry. When it is dry, I will put on another coat, and then sprinkle on the pink, yellow, purple, and green glitter that I got in a $1 glitter kit at JoAnn.

The Zeppoles Have It

A Miraculous Confection

I supposed it's not right of a good Italian to confess it :-), but I never much cared for zeppoles, at least for the filling, as I've never been a yellow cream fan. Used to drive my mom crazy by eating the pastry shell and the whipped cream on top, and surreptitiously consigning most of the yellow cream to the garbage pail on the counter. She eventually quit buying me my own zeppole on St. Joseph's Day and just bought one for her and one for Dad, and I had a chocolate doughnut (chocolate-frosted, not all chocolate) or an apple turnover.

(I used to do this with apple pie, too, since apple pie filling is always wayyyyyy too sweet. I'd eat the crust and a few of the apples and give the rest to my mom or dad. Apple turnovers were okay because they had a small quantity of apples compared to the crust. I remember how happy I was to find "no sugar added" apple pies...until Splenda arrived. Now most of the "no sugar added" apple pies we find have sorbitol or malitol in them. Guys, the apples are already sweet; why is God's name do you have to add so much sweetener? I might as well spoon sugar out of the bowl and eat it directly, some of these pies are so sweet.)

Anyway, the author in the article linked above is writing about Wright's Dairy Farm in North Smithfield, which I first wrote about in this entry.

The Italian Saint

A week from Monday is St. Joseph's Day, and I thought I would get up a small St. Joseph's Day table or altar. These are usually large, elaborate affairs, mostly in churches, but sometimes in people's homes. Here's one in New Orleans.

Mine's a tad bit smaller. LOL. I bought the little statue at the Monastery of the Holy Spirit in Conyers, GA. I didn't want a white statue, but I liked the way this St. Joseph looked, strong, like a carpenter should. The brother working at the counter even blessed him for me. I found something to place him upon and covered it with a tatted piece my mother did many years ago. Around him are traditional fruits, including figs and olives on the right. I wanted to get an artificial roll, too, since breads are a big part of the display, but the only "fake bread" I could find was a too-huge loaf at Michael's.

The nuts in front, on the other hand, are real filberts and almonds.



James' friend Rusty, at the hobby store, paints figures quite beautifully; he did a St. Jude statue for me many years ago. I am thinking of letting him paint this, too. Maybe I can find some artificial breads and nuts some other time.

George Washington and All That

George Washington still remains a mythic figure in our history, despite at least a century of debunking books after the idyllic Victorian chroniclers. But even through the fifties this charming little fable about George Washington bravely owning up to a childhood misdeed was taught either in history classes or featured in readers:

George Washington's Story about the Cherry Tree

Of course only a moral fable concocted by a minister, but cherry trees are still associated with Washington (and the capitol city named for him, hence the flowering cherry trees in the District of Columbia today) and cherry pie and tart recipes flourish on Washington's birthday.

Alistair Cooke says in America that many historians have had a hard time finding warmth in the man. As many aristocrats of his time, Washington was strictly brought up to observe propriety at all time. He disliked being touched and asked that official visitors remain standing in his presence. (Cooke adds that someone, observing this, commented, "I fear we have exchanged George III for George I.")

Still, we have bits of things, like a list of toys he ordered for his stepchildren (supposedly as Christmas gifts), that makes him seem a little more than a legend from on high.

On the other hand, I remember George being "humanized" from my childhood. I hear stories from friends about cute little songs they learned in their childhood, like "Wheels on the Bus." Most of what I listened to as a kid, besides the odd record like my old 78 RPM of "Happy Trails" and "Red River Valley" by Roy Rogers and the Sons of the Pioneers, were either Italian songs or songs by Italian singers (Perry Como, Dean Martin, Jerry Vale, Al Martino; Enzio Pinza—all except Frank Sinatra; Dad liked him but Mom hated him). (I did have the 45 of "PT-109," but remember, I was Catholic; John F. Kennedy was big at our house, too.)

My favorite Italian singer was a man who sang "novelty songs," Lou Monte. I had several Lou Monte 45s (still do, in fact), including his big comic hit "Pepino the Italian Mouse." This was one of my favorite records, about a man who has a persistent, gourmet mouse in his house, who steals his cheese, drinks his wine, and scares his girlfriend.

But I also loved the song on the flip side, which is the bouncy "What Did Washington Say (When He Crossed the Delaware)?" I still adore this song; it's funny!

(I looked up Lou Monte on Google today and found a Wikipedia entry, which left me absolutely gobsmacked: apparently Monte has been labeled as "controversial" in some circles. The quote in Wiki: "Monte's works have been considered by some to be degrading to both Italian-Americans and to Italians generally, as they portray Italy and Italians as backward, simple, and servile. We Got Teeth magazine writer Dom Passantino assembled a staff pick of 'The Top Ten Worst Ambassadors of Italian Culture Via Song,' in which Monte was labeled, 'the Italian Stepin Fetchit.'"

Wow. This must be recent. Monte was beloved in my old neighborhood, which was 90 percent Italian (mostly folks who had come from "the old country"), and in my 100 percent Italian family (all my grandparents had come from "the old country" as adults). My parents wouldn't have bought the records had they thought Monte was insulting.

Anyway, I found the lyrics for "What Did Washington Say" on mudcat.org; thanks to Jim Dixon and "Ferrara" who did the transcription:

"Give me liberty or give me death"--these words will never die,
"We have just begun to fight" is a famous battle cry;
But what I really want to know ain't written anywhere:
Hey, what did Washington say when he crossed the Delaware?

"Mme faccia 'nu fridd', e tengo 'na famm',
Mme faccia 'nu fridd', no tengo mo dann'.

(Mom told me this translated roughly as

"I'm cold, I'm hungry,
I'm cold and I've got no clean underwear.")

"Oh, Martha, Martha, wish you were here tonight.
Oh, Martha, Martha, no pasta fazool-a tonight.

"Martha baked these pizza pies and now they're cold as ice;
We'll sell them to the Indians at only half the price.
Please row a little faster, boys. I got no time to kill--
Tonight I'm posing for my picture on the dollar bill.

"Mme faccia 'nu fridd', e tengo 'na famm',
Mme faccia 'nu fridd', no tengo mo dann'.

"Oh, Martha, Martha, don't wait up for me tonight.
Oh, Martha, Martha, no tarantella tonight.

"George stood up and told his men, "Keep rowing, please don't stop.
These boats are only rented and we've got till six o'clock.
It's against the rules; we can't go rowing after dark.
We've got to get these rowboats back to good old Central Park.

"Mme faccia 'nu fridd', e tengo 'na famm',
Mme faccia 'nu fridd', no tengo mo dann'.

"Oh, Martha, Martha, I'm not coming home tonight.
Oh, Martha, Martha, there'll be no twisting tonight.

"On the day of glory, that's what Georgie told his crew.
Some may doubt the story, but to those of you who do,
Just ask Giusepp' the barber while he trims and cuts your hair--
He'll tell you just what Georgie said when he crossed the Delaware:

"Mme faccia 'nu fridd', e tengo 'na famm',
Mme faccia 'nu fridd', no tengo mo dann'.

"Oh, Martha, Martha, no pasta fazool tonight,
Oh, Martha, Martha, I'm not-t-t coming home tonight."

SPOKEN: "Hey Georgie, you wanna buy a bridge?" "Right!"

Hmmm, think I'll go play my 45 and laugh along with Lou.

Lent Begins

After the furor of mardi gras, this is a quiet day. It's appropriate weather here, too, as grey as the ashes and raining steadily. Every once in a while there is a rumble of thunder. Willow, her eyes big, retreats into her crate: "The sky is growling at me!" Pidge chirps back or coos to Girlfriend: "I'm not afraid of that ol' sky."

Ash Wednesday

"Ash Wednesday: Our Shifting Understanding of Lent"

Ken Collins on Ash Wednesday

Catholic Online on Ash Wednesday

The BBC's Page on Ash Wednesday

I remember going to St. Mary's every Ash Wednesday.The old walls of the church smelled strongly of incense. People bundled in winter coats trailed to the altar and then back. Mostly women but some men said rosaries after receiving their ashes. Some children were taken to Mass before school and came in with the mark of ashes on their foreheads. We went after work because Daddy left for work too early to go to church, but was home by 4 p.m. By then the sun was low in the sky and the old church was dim, with the banks of votive candles a flickeringly bright oasis around the altar.

The Day the Birds Choose Their Mates

And James plots something...I'm not sure what. I've just been told to keep my plate clear tomorrow night. :-)

More Than One St. Valentine

Wikipedia Entry

Who Keeps the Good Saint's Remains?

Valentine's Day History and Customs

Valentine's Day Around the World

Among the more gruesome things having to do with Valentine's Day is the infamous "St. Valentine's Day Massacre" so celebrated in gangster history. Here's a page at Weird and Haunted Chicago that talks about the events and the places.

When Shadows Mean Something

February 2 lies halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Pagan societies celebrated this day as Imbolc, a time when the days were getting longer and winter was beginning to release its hold. Many hibernating animals emerged from shelter during this time of year. Christian societies call the day "Candlemas." It celebrates the purification of Mary, mother of Jesus, 40 days after his birth, as was tradition at that time. On that day all the church candles are blessed for the year. (Candlemas is also the day for you to remove any Christmas greens you have left, since it is considered bad luck to keep them displayed any longer—perhaps because they were so dried up by that time!)

The "seeing of shadows" custom comes from beliefs expressed in various rhymes:

"If Candlemas Day is bright and clear, there'll be two winters in the year."

"If Candlemas be fair and bright,
Winter has another flight.
If Candlemas brings clouds and rain,
Winter will not come again."

Basically, if the sun shines on February 2, it's only a brief respite before winter closes back in. But if it's a grey or rainy day, winter is still working its way through, but spring should follow soon after.

In Germany badgers and hedgehogs traditionally "saw their shadows"; in the New World the ubiquitious groundhog, a.k.a. the woodchuck, a member of the marmot family, gained the honor.

The "official" groundhog of the United States is Punxsatawney Phil, the Pennsylvania groundhog who found even more fame with the release of the Bill Murray film, Groundhog Day. Phil's official website:

The Official Site of the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club

There are other regional groundhogs; Phil's Southern counterpart, General Beau Lee, lives at the Yellow River Game Ranch.

There's even a Canadian groundhog, who is unusual because he's an albino: here's Wiarton Willie's Website.

This CBC article reveals a little secret about Willie!

Lore, poetry, recipes and more for Imbolc.

Little Blue Mittens

At Michael's yesterday they had the tail-end of Christmas decorations including some little stuffed blue mittens with white embroidery snowflakes and white snowflakes with blue embroidery that were keychains for ten cents each. I bought four. The two mittens are hanging with snowflakes in the foyer.

A few snapshots of the winter decorations in Autumn Hollow.

Winter Remnants

We were headed to the new Costco at Cumberland Mall and stopped by the mall to see the new changes that were made (the mall has been undergoing a several million-dollar restoration). So we took a nice walk around the entire area. Kaybee Toys was going out of business and was pretty much stripped. Abercrombie and Fitch and Kirklands are gone. Lots more boring women's clothing stores. Some fronts still empty.

Anyway, unlike the Hallmark shop at the Avenue at West Cobb, the mall Hallmark store still had some leftover Christmas things at 75 percent off. I bought a white bottle brush tree with small red balls. When I got home I wrapped it with what was left of the silver snowflake garland and topped it with a snowflake ornament. It's now a winter tree in the foyer.

They also had some Marjolein Bastin's "Nature's Sketchbook" ornaments left. This year Bastin had done four winter garden ornaments, frosted with white: a sled, an Adirondak chair, a garden cart, and a mailbox. They didn't have any of the mailbox ornaments and the garden cart had a Christmas tree in it. Both the Adirondak chair and the sled, however, are just winter themed, the chair with skates and the sled with mittens. So I bought them for the table.

I also bought a goofy-looking white cartoony-looking bear who has a blue scarf rather than a Christmasy one.

Tree in Hibernation

Aieeee! It took two and a half hours to take the tree down, get it downstairs (where it's taking up a lot more space than I'd hoped) under plastic, and put the glider rocker back in place. I'm pooped. I don't know how the folks at Christmas to the Max (Melody has 52 trees!) do it. All the ornaments that had string ties on them now have hooks (thank God; I hate string ties on ornaments), the glass stuff is either in its own box (the regular Woolworth-type glass ornaments) or in an old Hallmark box, and the plastic stuff is in Ziplock bags laid flat in the storage container.

I feel decadent. I actually ripped the tinsel off and threw it away. They have made mylar tinsel since I was a kid, because of the lead hazard in the original icicles, but they are making it even thinner today; it's almost as fine as hair. I went crazy picking it off a 4 1/2 foot tree and hanging it back on the cardboard piece they provide in the icicle box; I wasn't going to try to do it with tinsel from a six-foot tree!

I bought three boxes of icicles at Walgreen's on half price after Christmas, so I have tinsel. I just feel my frugal mom is looking down on me and shaking an index finger at me and clucking! :-)

The autumn-theme things are back on the mantel, but I have some snow-themed things on the divider and scattered around the room, in the dining room, and in the foyer. It seems incongruous since it's 69° degrees outside, the windows are all thrown open with the fans going full blast, and it smells like bloody spring outside!

The carpet is still scattered with artificial needles, bits of tinsel and other Christmas flotsam, but it can wait until Monday if it has to, since it's Martin Luther King Day. Right now I'm ready for a good lunch. Hey, James, wanna go to Longhorn?

"Down With the Rosemary and So..."

Down with the baies and mistletoe,
Down with the holly, ivie all
Wherewith ye deck the Christmas Hall."

. . . . . Robert Herrick

I am slowly divesting the house of its Christmas finery.

It's taking a while because (a) it was put up during successive weeks of Advent, so it can't be taken down in mere hours and (b) I'm attempting to put it up in an orderly manner rather than just tossing it into the clear storage boxes as previously done. So the porch and the foyer now have their winter decorations and the dining room, kitchen, and what small things were in the various bedroom and the wreaths on the doors are cleared away. I have various winter decorations (gathered from Christmas clearance, since apparently in the decorating world winter only happens at Christmas [snark]) dotted about the main floor: a basket of greens, snowmen, etc. All the larger trees (the big tree in the living room, the small tree with the miniature ornaments, and the feather tree) are still up, plus the little adornments in the library and the ornament jars and snowglobes in the living room, and the village. I can probably take down the two small trees tonight and the den decorations, but will need to empty one of the big Xerox paper boxes for the village.

The big tree will need to wait until Friday, when I'm off. There simply isn't enough time after work. In the meantime, the timer continues to turn it on and off at night, so it's a glowing, welcome companion to dinnertime and post-prandial reading, pet encounters, and the odd television program or two.

Once the decorations are down I hope to start a couple of new projects: finishing the nook in the yard before it gets warm (that's like four weeks from now, if not sooner! <wry g>) and painting the "wish" stake for the yard in a fall motif. We'll need to get chairs for the nook; I'm simply going to get the PVC (or whatever it is) Adirondak chairs like we have on the porch, except in a different color. There's no use buying expensive wooden lawn furniture in Georgia; the strong sun will sap all the good out of it in two years and it will end up looking wizened and grey (like the rockers on our front porch) and need replacing.