Hearing the angels sing…

I grew up in way-upstate New York State, and winters were COLD. Our windows were often frosted and occasionally frozen shut. Nevertheless, on Christmas Eve our bedroom windows were always opened so that we could listen for the angels singing.

I didn’t hear any angel song today, but hearing two of my kids singing together was almost as good. I have no musical talent, but I enjoyed listening to Sam and Johanna make their way through the holiday songbook while I was cooking dinner – comfort food all the way, including short ribs from my recent purchase of a quarter cow, grass fed in Wayne Ohio and processed in Assumption. Also Southern-style grits, stored in the freezer since I bought them in Kentucky.

I’m trying not to think about the Kentucky-type weather we’ve had recently, since thinking about climate change doesn’t seem to help me or the climate.

With a week to go until 2024, I intend to do some intensive de-cluttering and end the year with a bit less excess stuff.

“Christmas is a togethery sort of holiday. …”