Saturday, December 26, 2015

Christmas at our house

“Christmas, my child, is love in action. Every time we love, every time we give, it's Christmas.” — Dale Evans, American writer, film star, singer-songwriter and third wife of singing cowboy Roy Rogers

IT SNOWED in central Iowa two days before Christmas, just enough to cover everything and make for a white Christmas Eve and Christmas. By this morning, the day after Christmas, it was all melted away by a warm rain.


Christmas Eve Paul played a church service at Holy Trinity Catholic Church in Beaverdale where he got to put his new/old trombone through its paces. While he was gone, I was busy wrapping gifts for friends, family members and him.


Christmas day we opened our packages from each other in bed with help from two of the four furry-purries. 



Shiva thinks she ought to be the present. And of course she is — every day.

Boy Boy follows Shiva around everywhere and wants to do everything she does.
Paul wearing new jim jams and wrapped up in a fuzzy throw . . . and cats. .

One of my presents from Paul was a new toaster. He said he was reluctant to tell anyone that's what he'd gotten me. He figured it was only marginally better than a new bucket, mop and a bottle of Pine-Sol. But I really wanted a new toaster! I've been complaining for years about our old one which reliably burned bread on one side and left the other side mostly unscathed. I laughed and laughed so hard when I saw what it was. 


In early afternoon we met Paul's parents and Karl, Peg and Paul Schilling at Prairie Meadows for Christmas buffet. Karl and Peg are extraordinary bird photographers, and Paul Schilling is on a break before returning to Viet Nam where he teaches. Karl is also a consummate story-teller, providing the rest of us with lot of belly laughs — which was a little hard on the constitution considering how much we'd all eaten.



Paul's mom and dad and us.

First row left to right: Paul Schilling, Phyllis Bridson and Keith Bridson. Back row left to right: Peg Schilling, Karl Schilling, Paul and me.

In the evening Paul and I took Christmas dinner over to Mama Logli's: roast turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, green bean casserole, pumpkin pie with whipped cream. Paul and Mama Logli made gravy together. We stayed until the wee hours and came home in a food coma.



Mama wanted Paul to bring his trombone so she could see it and hear him play. He obliged with some Christmas carols, and I more or less played the only song I know on the piano — 
which happens to be Silent Night. 

Mama wanted a picture of her fireplace mantel. Th white figurines are angels we got her a few years ago.

6 comments:

  1. Oh that's perfect! What a lovely day. I laughed about the toaster but get it too - sometimes we just don't buy ourselves things we need. Especially the small stuff - so yay Paul.

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    1. I felt unqualified to buy a new toaster because Paul likes to research things we buy. Whenever we'd see one, he'd say, "Let me do a little research." So you can see that him buying one was about the only way it was going to happen! Naturally we had to have toast as soon as I opened the package. Yup, toast in bed.

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  2. I bought my husband a toaster, too! He wanted one; we needed a new one and I, like Paul, did the research necessary.

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    1. Hahahahaha!! Nice to know we're not the only ones!

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  3. we , on the other hand, Never did any toaster research, and we Never got a good toaster either -- there was always something wrong with any and every new toaster we ever bought -- it seems to me it should NOT be that difficult to get a good toaster ... hmmmm ... Congrats on your acquisition :)

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    1. We'll see! So far it does toast perfectly. The jury is still out as to how it perform with other toastables.

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