Unbelievably, Christmas has come and gone. The great rush, enjoyed as the rush and push to get "it all done" not just for the morning of Christmas but for the giving, and the sharing of time, talent and hospitality that the season of Christmas entails. We had wonderful gifts and visits from neighbors, including honey from across the street, fruit scones from the farm to the northwest, card playing on a wintry eve, and belly-warming Kentucky bourbon.
And, on the Eve of Christmas, the family gets "purty" and travels to church for what makes Christmas what it is, a celebration of the birth of Jesus. And, my favorite penultimate moment of Christmas- the candles in all hands and the singing of "Silent Night" in a darkened church.
When we get home, I get pushy and make everyone wait for a moment so I can get pictures of the family on Christmas. I feel these opportunities slipping out of my grasp, from when I could dress up Eldest in a miniature Christmas dress and prop her in a chair for a photo.
My babes.
Huz with his girls.
The boyz.
When I surrender the camera- which is not frequently done, I get a picture of my little guy and myself. Kinda.
And one of me with my gorgeous girls. Sorta.
But patience, and a bit of nagging, often gets the job done.
And then comes Christmas morning, and the dogs eagerly await the descent of the children. Santa came, and filled the stockings, left each child a present and the dogs are excited, as Santa left something special for them as well.
A dog bed by the fire, mostly big enough for two hedonistic pups.
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