In lieu of trying to belong to any number of societies: Chesterton, Sherlock Holmes, the Inklings, and so on: I propose and establish one of my own. Don your intelligence cap at the door; dust off your logic and imagination; did you bring your inspiration and encouragement? We are shapers, my friends; lit lamps; light-bringers. Bring quotes; poetry should be uplifting and thoughtful, or witty and clever, (or both). Humor is encouraged; laughter is invited back. Pull up a chair. Anyone for tea?

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For your coziness.

Here at the pineapple house, we're getting ready for an evening of ample food and a few close friends. My day began early: a few hours at work, a hair trim, a visit to Ben, and a quest to find fresh turkey. There being none to be found, I settled on a couple of plump chickens, and headed home in a deluge of rain and hail.
It's quieted much since then. I've lit candles and baked apples with cranberries, so that fabulous aromas might pervade. The chickens are dressed and roasting. Christmas music is playing over our new speakers. We are wrapped in gladness.






True classic Christmas right here. 
Bing Crosby. Nat King Cole. Dean Martin.
Enjoy.
at
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1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Wonderful good stuff. ~tammy

November 29, 2016 at 7:24 AM

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