Nope, that's not the way it is these days.
Having a quiet breakfast, with Roy snoring in his chair. Quiet. No newspaper for DH to read.
I miss it.
And I don't.
You know it's not Christmas in my family, unless I make my
Lois groaned when I told her I was making them at the studio in between weaving.
She groaned because they are impossible to stay away from.
Damn maid, anyway.
Boiling the syrup is hazardous.
Yes, it boiled over a bit, making clean up a real chore.
But the cookies are SO worth it.
Over my fireplace at the studio, I realized that I had a study in black and white going on.
My dear friend, Robin, does these drawings in ink..........with a Bic pen, no less.
He recently had a small, local show, this is one of the two prints that I bought, of lilacs.
This work is one that I snatched from my father's antique barn, years ago, and though I have tried to find out about it origins, the best I can cipher is that it is from a print from an old hunting magazine.
I've always loved it.
This is an original by Robin, of bittersweet, one of my favorite invasive species.
And the second print I bought at his show, of a fern.
I love his ferns.
The next black and white is a photo that I love, of my three daughters, and my "adopted" daughter.
Left to right, Holly, Brooke, Johanna, and Morgan.
God, I love those girls.
And this one, my paternal grandmother, Vivien Noel Cooper. She was the first woman in Ticonderoga, NY, to drive around her own AUTOMOBILE.
At least that's the story.
And lastly, this is a photograph of my house, the studio, taken in 1921. I have tried to bring it back to that glory.
Back when the highway was dirt.
Yes, it's quiet here on Christmas day. But it's good.
We had a wonderful Christmas eve get together last night, with all the noise and fun a body could handle.
A little reflection and reminiscing and a peaceful Christmas morning never hurt anybody.