Another Christmas is behind us. What a lovely day it was both inside and out. So peaceful and calm sipping coffee around the lit Christmas tree counting our blessings while outside the double digit temperatures allowed for someone to launch their wayfarer sailboat in Mahone Bay harbour and pass by our windows. There was a bit of envy thinking about our boat on the hard and away from our grasp, but then I turned it around and pinned delight on their joy. Those lucky so-in-sos brought forth thoughts of our boat and the fun we have, how could a catalyst like that be anything but wonderful. A sailboat is an incredible sight to see anytime, and this time of year it’s as rare as unicorns. I sure hope this is a sign of a mild winter; we could use one after last year’s brutal amount of snowfall.
After coming home from a Christmas dinner at a friends house, stuffed to the gills and too uncomfortable to sleep, we stayed up late listening to the dulcet tones of old fashioned Christmas music, the oldies and the goodies of Sinatra, Bing and all those that are now gone but have left a nostalgic legacy of ageless songs that bring on a cache of comfort and joy.
After hubby went to bed, I stayed up until 6:30 AM, dosing off and on, waking to drink in the beauty of our tree; a bejeweled fir so sparkling that the old crow in me can’t take my eyes off of it. Jake, my black toy poodle and I cuddled on the sofa enjoying the quiet, how lucky we are to have such peace and joy in our lives, sometimes I feel guilty knowing that many others aren’t so lucky.
It was a warm night, the fire went out and we didn’t need a blanket. I was wearing pajamas that hubby gave to me for Christmas 2014, which I dug out because someone hasn’t done laundry for weeks and it was this or my birthday suit. I was saving them for an emergency, one never knows when a trip to the hospital might occur and I would be embarrassed for anyone to see what I normally wear to bed.
These new jammies are brushed cotton flannel and luxuriously soft. They came from Victoria Secret but there is nothing sexy about them, not on me anyway, I won't be posing in their catalog any time soon. They are a two piece set, black and white animal print with a pink satin trim along the placket edge and cuffs. I thought hubby would be pleased that I finally wore them but his only comment was a question, asking when I bought them as he hasn’t seen them before. Aren’t men sweet? I told him that he bought them for me last Christmas while shopping in Calgary with his daughter and his comment was that he didn’t remember. He did recall buying me a meat cleaver that I requested to break up chicken wings for the dogs. Go figure, a man remembering a sharp tool that smashes things over a pair of pajamas, but then maybe giving me a weapon like object is memorable because it came with a bit of intrepidation......
We don’t want to ridicule or chastise a man’s lack of memory over something so trivial as a forgotten Christmas present, we just store that up for future reference. We understand they can’t keep trivial things straight even though we do; we know exactly what we’ve bought for them, what it cost and where it was purchased over the past few decades. It's all stored up here in the old noggin along with every word they've ever said.
What doesn’t deem important to the male brain will serve us when we’re sneaking something into the house that will easily be explained as being there for some time. We don’t intentionally want to deceive them, but it’s so darn easy, like taking candy from a baby, really....it’s almost like they ask for it! How else do our wool and quilt rooms fill up with stash so swiftly? If they saw everything that came through the door or we told them upfront, they might have a coronary so convincing them otherwise is safer for all concerned. We love them and want them to be around for as long as we are, really, we have their best interest at heart!
But I digress.....Finally Jake and I left the sofa as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon and quietly mounted the stairs for bed. I’ve been sleeping in the spare room since my knee flared up so separate beds worked, giving me the freedom to shift and move my leg to a comfortable spot when necessary. Try that in a Queen sized bed with a man and four pups and it was a recipe for a bad night's rest, but now that my leg is better I’m running out of excuses to rejoin them. I'm rather enjoying all the space and reading with the light on until sleepy. I haven’t struggled with insomnia since I moved across the hall and after the books falls on my face I awake, turn off the light and resume dreamland.
Even though the sun was rising and it was getting light quickly, sleep be-felled me like a chopped tree in the forest. I dreamed I was sailing the ocean blue while Jake dreamed he was chasing a rabbit when we were roughed awake by the phone shattering the quiet. It was a double whammy, the ungodly hour of 10:30 AM and a wrong number! I listened with my feathers ruffled, my mood as sour as my morning breath. Hubby was also awakened by the ring, but he loves mornings, gets out of bed smiling. To him a morning represents a new opportunity for adventure, quite a contrast to my scowl, wondering what the heck will go wrong today.
Even though his voice was thick from a night of sleep; he was kind and sweet. They must have asked if they had awakened him and he said jokingly, no he was up....to answer the phone and he ended the call by wishing the person on the other end of the line a Merry Christmas. I don’t think I could have been that kind to a stranger still groggy with sleep, maybe that’s something I could work on in the New Year. Hubby spoke as if it they were old friends. I guess that’s why I married him, he’s lovely and in the stranger's defense, who isn’t up by 10:30 on a Christmas morning anyway?
Once up, we sat around for a couple of hours nursing coffee, chatting, eating chocolates and then had brunch at 1:00 PM. It was a day as sweet and smooth as pulled toffee. There was nothing but right now, being in the moment, without a care in the world.
The best Christmases for me have been the non-commercial ones. No stress shopping, pounding the pavement, traffic and crowds, suffering through aching feet and being tortured trying to find the perfect gift. Any time I’m not at my shop I want to be home, in my castle, self-locked in the tower until work calls. I am happiest here with my hubby and pups, home really is where the heart is.........
After coming home from a Christmas dinner at a friends house, stuffed to the gills and too uncomfortable to sleep, we stayed up late listening to the dulcet tones of old fashioned Christmas music, the oldies and the goodies of Sinatra, Bing and all those that are now gone but have left a nostalgic legacy of ageless songs that bring on a cache of comfort and joy.
After hubby went to bed, I stayed up until 6:30 AM, dosing off and on, waking to drink in the beauty of our tree; a bejeweled fir so sparkling that the old crow in me can’t take my eyes off of it. Jake, my black toy poodle and I cuddled on the sofa enjoying the quiet, how lucky we are to have such peace and joy in our lives, sometimes I feel guilty knowing that many others aren’t so lucky.
It was a warm night, the fire went out and we didn’t need a blanket. I was wearing pajamas that hubby gave to me for Christmas 2014, which I dug out because someone hasn’t done laundry for weeks and it was this or my birthday suit. I was saving them for an emergency, one never knows when a trip to the hospital might occur and I would be embarrassed for anyone to see what I normally wear to bed.
These new jammies are brushed cotton flannel and luxuriously soft. They came from Victoria Secret but there is nothing sexy about them, not on me anyway, I won't be posing in their catalog any time soon. They are a two piece set, black and white animal print with a pink satin trim along the placket edge and cuffs. I thought hubby would be pleased that I finally wore them but his only comment was a question, asking when I bought them as he hasn’t seen them before. Aren’t men sweet? I told him that he bought them for me last Christmas while shopping in Calgary with his daughter and his comment was that he didn’t remember. He did recall buying me a meat cleaver that I requested to break up chicken wings for the dogs. Go figure, a man remembering a sharp tool that smashes things over a pair of pajamas, but then maybe giving me a weapon like object is memorable because it came with a bit of intrepidation......
We don’t want to ridicule or chastise a man’s lack of memory over something so trivial as a forgotten Christmas present, we just store that up for future reference. We understand they can’t keep trivial things straight even though we do; we know exactly what we’ve bought for them, what it cost and where it was purchased over the past few decades. It's all stored up here in the old noggin along with every word they've ever said.
What doesn’t deem important to the male brain will serve us when we’re sneaking something into the house that will easily be explained as being there for some time. We don’t intentionally want to deceive them, but it’s so darn easy, like taking candy from a baby, really....it’s almost like they ask for it! How else do our wool and quilt rooms fill up with stash so swiftly? If they saw everything that came through the door or we told them upfront, they might have a coronary so convincing them otherwise is safer for all concerned. We love them and want them to be around for as long as we are, really, we have their best interest at heart!
But I digress.....Finally Jake and I left the sofa as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon and quietly mounted the stairs for bed. I’ve been sleeping in the spare room since my knee flared up so separate beds worked, giving me the freedom to shift and move my leg to a comfortable spot when necessary. Try that in a Queen sized bed with a man and four pups and it was a recipe for a bad night's rest, but now that my leg is better I’m running out of excuses to rejoin them. I'm rather enjoying all the space and reading with the light on until sleepy. I haven’t struggled with insomnia since I moved across the hall and after the books falls on my face I awake, turn off the light and resume dreamland.
Even though the sun was rising and it was getting light quickly, sleep be-felled me like a chopped tree in the forest. I dreamed I was sailing the ocean blue while Jake dreamed he was chasing a rabbit when we were roughed awake by the phone shattering the quiet. It was a double whammy, the ungodly hour of 10:30 AM and a wrong number! I listened with my feathers ruffled, my mood as sour as my morning breath. Hubby was also awakened by the ring, but he loves mornings, gets out of bed smiling. To him a morning represents a new opportunity for adventure, quite a contrast to my scowl, wondering what the heck will go wrong today.
Even though his voice was thick from a night of sleep; he was kind and sweet. They must have asked if they had awakened him and he said jokingly, no he was up....to answer the phone and he ended the call by wishing the person on the other end of the line a Merry Christmas. I don’t think I could have been that kind to a stranger still groggy with sleep, maybe that’s something I could work on in the New Year. Hubby spoke as if it they were old friends. I guess that’s why I married him, he’s lovely and in the stranger's defense, who isn’t up by 10:30 on a Christmas morning anyway?
Once up, we sat around for a couple of hours nursing coffee, chatting, eating chocolates and then had brunch at 1:00 PM. It was a day as sweet and smooth as pulled toffee. There was nothing but right now, being in the moment, without a care in the world.
The best Christmases for me have been the non-commercial ones. No stress shopping, pounding the pavement, traffic and crowds, suffering through aching feet and being tortured trying to find the perfect gift. Any time I’m not at my shop I want to be home, in my castle, self-locked in the tower until work calls. I am happiest here with my hubby and pups, home really is where the heart is.........
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