Well, another year and I'm alone under the Christmas tree again. It's Christmas Eve, almost. Winchester is asleep, knocked out by his allergy pill. The Writer is fussing over her first-ever ham and fixing a nice supper. The Writer's husband is at work, but he'll be home soon. The presents are stowed in the vintage suitcases, ready to be opened tonight.
It's so quiet. Without Winchester nattering in my ear, I forget what real quiet is.
I like sitting under the pink lights of The Writer's pink tree. The rosy glow makes me feel peaceful. I guess that's what we all hope for this time of year--peace.
Here's wishing everyone a peaceful holiday. And, to quote The Writer's favorite Christmas song, "I Believe in Father Christmas," May your road be clear.
Have a wonderful holiday. Drive safely on clear roads to your destinations. And think rosy pink thoughts when you go to bed tonight.