It's November 25th, one day before our national day of Thanksgiving. It is 2 AM and I have been awake for an hour. Somewhere people are thinking of turning in for the night. I am contemplating what I can do to get ready for tomorrow's feast that doesn't wake my husband. Vacuuming would be inappropriate. Maybe I am ready for a Roomba. I won't do a load of laundry because he too rises at ridiculously early hours and wouldn't want to shower when the washer is altering the water pressure.
We rushed the season and have Christmas lights decorating three small spruce trees on our deck. I left the lights on last evening and now there is a gentle rain falling. Snow was predicted and would have made lighted evergreens look pretty at night, but it looks like Georgia around here. The grass is still green and my pansies refuse to quit blooming. I placed a spruce tree top in a pot of pansies and noted I have never put Christmas decorations in with blooming flowers in late November in Minnesota. We will defer buying any oceanside property in Florida in case Al Gore is right. This weather is not normal. Locals are not complaining unless they sell snowblowers or own a ski hill.
The other day Jon and I reminisced about the first year we spent Christmas Eve away from our families. At 19 he was stationed at Ft. Benning, GA and assigned guard duty on Christmas Eve. Just like the song, it was a rainy night in Georgia. Thankfully we will see all of our kids and grandkids at Thanksgiving and on Christmas Eve. Our thoughts and prayers are with the many who will miss soldiers stationed away from home. The lucky ones will be in Georgia. May the Good Lord look after the rest.
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