Been a productive day but no time for porch sitting. Did a little chair sitting while I ate lunch and watched a flock of cardinals on the feeders on the the deck. Finally got the red and green apples sliced and put on the birds’ Christmas tree.

Fatty the squirrel is huge now. He’s taken over the deck sunflower feeder and eats so much when he finishes he lies on his stomach on the deck railing, all four legs dangling down. When he leaves he takes an acrobatic dive to a bamboo stalk then rides the stalk till it swings to the chestnut tree. The first time I saw him lying down on the railing I thought he was dead. But he was just in a food coma!

Been a busy day. Took Penelope to board at vet brother’s clinic so she wouldn’t be frisky and lick every one to death at our dinner. Not to mention all the begging for a taste of whatever is on our plates. I think she was a vulture in her previous life.

From there I motored to Lagrange to buy shrimp for the family Christmas dinner. Came home and made 3 dozen cookies, a lemon pie, a caramel cake, made deviled eggs, got the collards cooking, and put a 20 pound ham in the oven and wrapped presents for the grandchildren. Got the tables up and places set and decorated. Tomorrow I’ll make the pecan pie and whip the whipping cream. Can’t wait to see everyone and their families. The children are always so excited to see their cousins.

When I opened the condensed milk for the lemon pie I lost the lid. I looked everywhere worrying I would step on it and cut my foot. Finally decided I had cooked it in the pie! At that moment Stew walks into the kitchen and says, “Mama, there’s something stuck to the front of your shirt.” Yep, been walking around like a crazy woman looking for the can lid and it was on my shirt! I think I might be an “idjut.”

I got the nicest compliment on my writings today. A friend wrote in a comment, “Your writings have been a Christmas gift this year.” I loved reading that. She was in the high school band with me. A talented flute player who became a pharmacist. Wonder if she ever plays her flute. My grandson is playing my trumpet in beginning band.

Another friend wrote of her memories of singing her children to sleep each night with Swing Low, Sweet Chariot. Sang the the song to her grandchildren and the song was sung at her husband’s funeral. I think that’s beautiful. She hopes her children will sing the song at her funeral.

Chief and I rocked our children to sleep every night and sang to them while we rocked. I’d sing Sassafras Tea, I’ve Working on the Railroad, Senior Don Gato (a cat song) — that’s all I can remember.

Chief had one song…I would have to hide to laugh on the nights he put Thomas to bed. He’d sing Birmingham Jail. I can hear him now. “Write me a letter. Send it by mail. Send it in care of the Birmingham Jail. Roses are red dear. Violets are blue. Angels in heaven know I love you.”

Bye, bye!