I can hardly keep the diary current, these days, for things just keep happening.  Last week, was a prime example . .  .

I had been up about thirty minutes one morning,when   I  heard an ungodly sound coming from the bathroom.  I sprang to the scene to find a  spectaculr fountain  spewing from the sink.  I  quickly shut down the valve and then surveyed the scene.  It took several towels to soak up the puddles.  I saw then that the  faucette was missing a handle!  I didn’t even know such a thing could happen!    I went to the living room to sort out my thoughts.  Half of the Christmas tree was dark.     

The phone rang as I contemplated calling my cousin about the plumbing.  I received unpleasant news.  Afterwards, I looked up and said aloud “God, it is 10 am.”  Well,  alot  had happened. 

On Thursday, Mama and I made a trip to see our “Riley Kate”, sister Connies’ grand daughter.   She was  delightful and mom Hayley was doing well.  We sat in Connies’beautiful home with the Christmas tree  shining brightly.  Outside the very blue lake  was covered in whitecaps, for there was a cold and wild wind, blowing, that day.  It was a lovely afternoon, and I left full of gladness for my sister.  Hayley is next door and a beloved grandson lives there and works  with his grandad and with Hayleys’ husband, Carson.  (I shed a few tears at the beauty of it.)   The  next two days, I was in the kitchen.   

We all gathered at Mamas’ house for an early Christmas celebration, on Saturday. It was a happy, busy time.  Lyla was especially full of joy, literally dancing around.  Ryan and Brynn were  together and in cahootz over one thing or another, plotting and imagining.  Little Banks was passed around then Christian took him on a walk, allowing Banks to explore the yard, unhindered.  Lyla and Brynn passed out cards they had made . . .such treasures! 

I was trying to ice a “birthday cake for Jesus”, so the children might remember the holiness of   Christmas.   I had been interrupted twice and then again, when Sister Delores herded all outside for pictures.  I grumbled and whined about it, but followed the eager family out.  They were assembled around a car with a bow on it.  I being dull , asked “What is this?”   Tres  walked over and handed me the keys!  I was stunned- ,more so than  I had been when I saw the  surprise shower in the bathroom!  I am still shocked.  Tres said, all my children had helped in some way, for me to get it. 

Now my old car still runs well, but it is over twenty-five years old.

A storm came the next day.  I have not seen this much rain at once, in years..  After weeks of freezing nights, it is mild and very wet on Bonnet Street.  It has now been raining for 24 hours.  Thankfully, no flooding  at the rabbitpatch. Tonight, freezing conditions are expected to return. 

Somehow and against all odds,, the delicate flowers of the star jasmine, still blooms ,framing  the backdoor.  Two chrysanthemums are full of white blossoms, also.  Everything else has”settled in for a long winter’ nap”. 

The oaks rest, and so does the very old  crepe myrtle.  A warm brown carpet of fallen leaves, covers the garden, now. Winter has come .  Nature is stilled and hushed, its’ “work” unseen for mere humans.  My collection of rainwater is partially frozen . . so is the compost . . . and  “Jack Frost” comes every night to paint his shine. 

In the south, Christmases are not always cold.  Many times we are known to raise windows, while the turkey and ham cook.  This year, hopefully, we will not have to take  such measures.  

Please know that I wish everyone a bright and happy Christmas.  May our love for one another be rekindled,  and  let us give grace  often and freely   May gratefulness fall upon upon us like the  light of the Christmas star, spawning an unfading joy and  a sense of hope that abides.               Merry, Merry Christmas, love  Michele

  

The last fortnight was beautiful . . and busy. I spent all day Wednesday in the kitchen cooking .  I was as happy as a lark.  The cheesecake  and the pumpkin  pie “set” as they ought to.  The biscuits for the dressing, were fluffy and golden.    Those dishes, and a blueberry cobbler, had all been requested by different family members-and everyone wanted collards.  By mid-afternoon, all was packed up to be taken to Mamas’. where we would all gather.  I cleaned up the scene of all of this activity and headed to Mamas’.  Some things cannot be made ahead of time, so the next morning would come mighty early. 

By mid-morning on Thanksgiving day, both turkeys and the ham were done.  There was still potatoes cooking to be creamed, stuffing to mix up   – and the gravy, yet just around noon, I was sitting on the porch. 

The weather was bright and brisk.  Chesnut and Mohagony leaves were scattered about Mamas’ yard just beyond the porch.  The air smelled of autumn scents and it was so still and  silent,  I felt it was a holy time. Across the road, were the fields, I had played and worked in, in my youth,  Behind them were the woods, with the “forbidden”   pond. Sounds and pictures tumbled in.  The  sounds were muffled, distanced by years  and some of the pictures bore watermarks- but, I was filled to the brim with gratitude for those who loved me before, those who loved me now, and the ones yet to come. 

Suddenly, the families arrived   and the children spilled out of the cars and ran to the porch, shouting “Honeybee!” . 

On the Sunday after Thanksgiving, my children and grandchildren stopped by the rabbitpatch, before they went home.  It was a wonderful  time.  We had just enough time for a light meal . . .and for Lyla to find her Christmas present.   Now, Brynn and Ryan pleaded for theirs!    I talked to their parents.  Really, there was nothing to do, but to give Brynn her stop watch, and hand the telescope to Ryan.  After the shock, I laughed about it.

 Just a few days after Thanksgiving, another child was born into the family . . .Niece Hayley gave birth to her firstborn, a daughter, Riley Kate.  That day, Mama, sister Delores  and I  were keeping our phones within  “arms’ reach” so we wouldn’t miss an update.  What a thrilling and joyous day, it was!   What peace flooded our hearts, when the ordeal was over and we felt “all was well”. 

After the birth of my grand-niece,  I could  concentrate on holiday decorations.  Straight away, I was collecting cedar for arrangements and wreaths.  Between the scented pine cones and the evergreens, the house smells like Christmas.   A tree does not yet abide in the living room to shine through the window and I have lots of baking to do.   After Lylas’ plundering, there will be less presents to wrap!  

It is pitch dark, as I conclude this entry in my diary.  The little neighborhood  on Bonnet Street is shrouded in a silvery mist.   Today, I need to write a letter and make butter.  I have been making  nut butters, and I made garlic butter last week. The nut butters are quite economical to make , while cream butter saves you a dollar . . .but the buttermilk. derived from the process, is an added bonus. 

I may visit the beekeeper today  or I may attempt making fairy  cakes.  Mornings are full of possibilties, after all.

 

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