Our party last night was a nice evening---six ladies together, all old friends or family, all relaxing together, eating good party food, laughing and talking. It’s all a little bit of a blur to me, all the fun and work and putting-together, and even the hurried photos I was making as we bustled about, chattering and setting down dishes and brewing the tea, but it was lovely, I think.
Chris and Sweetpea went to see Frozen whilst we ladies gathered and ate and talked, and just as we finished the cheese course and were heading upstairs to get all those boxes and tups and bags and plates of cookies and candy and other delights to share around, our movie-goers returned.
Click of two doors, burst of snow-stomping feet at the top of the stairs. Cheery calls of “We’re HOME!” down the stairs, and then they burst brightly into the room, in a swirl of energy and color and a warmth that belied their rosy cheeks and shining eyes in all those heavy clothes.
Chris, of course, was in his Santa hat---I’ve told you he wears it for about a month every year, to the delight and puzzlement of many a little one at the next table, or passing on an escalator or in a car. He’s just the picture of the Jolly Guy, himself, and I cannot imagine The Real Thing having a kinder, happier nature and outlook.
They just exploded into our midst, all light and color, as we ladies sat looking on at the pair. I cannot tell you the joy in my heart to see these two, so close, the Child of his heart, and the Ganner of hers, in from their outing, and eager to tell of their adventures. I wish you could have all shared that magical moment---I know I’ll carry that spot of BRIGHT with me for all my days.
Of the party, moiré non,