from one holiday to the next

by Bella Rum


Thanksgiving Day at my brother’s

I know Thanksgiving is over and done, but I thought I’d post this pic. I didn’t take as many photos as I usually do, but after dinner, in between rainstorms, I wandered out on the deck and snapped the last splash of autumn in the wetlands.

I almost finished wrapping Christmas presents this morning. I decorated the Grand Trio’s bedroom yesterday. I thought it would be fun for them… and me. Frozen is the big deal this year. I bought a bunch of snowflakes at Dollar Tree – 10 for a dollar. I used blue painters tape to hang them from the ceiling. You can’t see all of them in the photo, but there are plenty. IMG_8533

H brought the small tree down from the attic, and I put some flakes on it. It already had white lights. I found a couple of yards of silver ribbon in a box, and made little bows for it and added the rest of the silver bells that were left from the ones I got for the ice skates. Why not? They will love it.IMG_8532

We went to a friend’s house for dinner last night: lasagna, salad, Italian bread and strawberry chiffon cake. It was very good, but even more enjoyable because we were with a close friend. Her daughter dropped off her eleven-year-old grandson after dinner. We’ve known him since he was a baby, but we don’t see him as often anymore. It’s amazing how quickly kids get their own social life, but he blew off another invitation to be with us.

I was struck by how sweet he still is. I know it can’t last much longer. Soon those teen years will rob him of that tenderness. He will have to put on an impassive face and master the eye roll (which his mother would tell me he’s already gotten down pat). It won’t be quite the same, but a more reserved form of the sweetness will return someday once he survives pimples, braces and awkward limbs that won’t coordinate with his body. But for now, I throughly enjoyed getting to stroke his hair and listen to his tales about friends and school. They are so sweet when they’re sweet and not when they’re not.