I spent yesterday morning doing the Christmas cards -- around forty of them. It's always been a pleasant task -- sending good wishes to folks. But more and more it's also a kind of bittersweet day of memories as I leaf through my address book and see all the names crossed out due to death, the changes of address due to downsizing or divorce.
Maybe I should start afresh with a new address book and save the old one to peruse on All Souls Day. It would be a fitting exercise. But I suppose it's good, in this season of programmed jollity, to spare a few moments to think of those folks in my book who've suffered losses . . . or to savor the pleasant memories of those who I've lost track of. That's probably why I hang on to the old book.
The house is inching into Christmas mode now -- Great Great Aunt Georgia's red and white quilt and Great Grandmother Alice's red, white, and green one are up and Christmas lights and such are everywhere. Only the tree and the greenery are missing but that will come next weekend.
Next comes the wrapping of the presents. Most of the ones that need to get in the mail are ready to go. The ones for under the Christmas tree are waiting -- the hard part here is coming up with the clever clues that are our nerdy tradition. (No, Josie won't be expected to play our game.)
Snow is falling as I write this Saturday night. Anywhere from two to eighteen inches is predicted. Or maybe more. We're ready for bad roads and power outages. Claui and Josie are supposed to return on Monday but, depending on weather conditions, they may have to delay their return.
If we don't have power, we don't have internet so if I don't post, that's why.
Preparing for the worst . . . hoping for the best.