“Baby, it’s cold outside!” Much have been a wintry day like today when Frank Loesser wrote those song lyrics.

No ponderings on the porch today! Did walk P around lunch time. Froze my hands off, then got her leash wrapped around my legs trying to set the trash cart upright. Had on my feeted pjs and a down vest. Looked like an idjut!

The wind here is ferocious. The bamboo forest sounds like wind chimes. Maybe the cold will kill them and save me some landscaping fees. If Fatty the squirrel decides to have a sunflower snack he’s going to get a wild ride on the bamboo stalk today.

No one on the feeders today but some cardinal pairs. I wonder where they slept last night. Bet their toenails had a vice grip on the branches.

Writing this on Friday but y’all are reading the words on Sunday, Christmas Day.

What I wouldn’t give to have one more excited Christmas morning with Chief and our three children. Nothing is more heart wrenching than putting up a Christmas tree at the cemetery. For many, many years we placed a small tree on Rosie’s grave. We decorated the tree with angels. I put greenery on Chief’s grave last year but I hope he and Rosie will forgive me for not visiting their graves this Christmas. Just don’t have the intestinal fortitude to make the trip. As the years go fleeting by, spending the holidays without them is harder each year.

When my mother’s grandchildren’s children run around with the happy sparkles of Christmas in their eyes, I see Rosie’s children running with them. Chubby little legs, blond curls, blue eyes, singing and whistling like she did as a child. When I see Chief’s place card beside mine, I choke back the tears knowing how proud he was of his children and grandchildren. No man had more pride in his family.

Thomas was six months old his first Christmas. Chief and I were excited with the thoughts of Santa paying a visit to our home in the woods. I can see his Santa prizes. Red Radio flyer wagon, wooden blocks from LLBean, a small train, and some books, and puzzles. I look so young, excitedly sitting on the floor beside the red wagon. Chief just as excited making Christmas photos of his first born sitting in the wagon.

The year before, Chief had composed a poem for our first Christmas card. Off all the poems he wrote for our Christmas cards, this first one is my favorite.

He wrote —

Old paintings and recent photographs

smile and are serious with a crosscut saw

above a wood stove warming as the music

from our hearts in a clearing

in the woods that are home

where live candles grow short

with happy hours in supper’s glow

in anticipation of a new life

when spring has grown

its coat of green again

where three stockings are hanging

a year from now

with that deeper meaning

of Christmas and the gift

that love becomes.

I have that card framed on the wall in the lady den centered between happy photos of Chief and Thomas and Thomas and me. Thomas is now a forty year old man excitedly anticipating his three children’s faces when they see what Santa has left under the tree this year.

To all the parents out there exhausted from Christmas, remember these beautiful years in your children’s’ live. Some day when you’re old and grey, these days will bring a smile to your faces and a warmth to your hearts.

Merry Christmas to my family and friends! Hope all are well and happy!