We are hosting a friends-and-family
Christmas party on Saturday. Tomorrow.
The same day we will also be hosting
Winter Storm Freyr and her 2 to 4 inches of snow.
Yes, you read that right. Freyr.
Who the heck is naming the winter storms this year?
The last one was named Euclid, for crying out loud.
Speaking of snow, do these flowers look as if they are
the survivors of a Christmas Eve snowstorm?
I ordered flowers for Howard's sister and husband,
arranging the delivery for Christmas Eve.
Completely forgetting that they would be in Massachusetts
for Christmas. The flowers were left on their front step.
On Christmas Eve, Anne and I sang at the 7 and the 11 o'clock
church services, so between services, in blinding snow,
we drove to Wayne, New Jersey, and rescued the basket.
Which was covered in white, the flowers shivering and shriveling in the cold.
(They were. Really.)
They perked up in the warm car, and by the next day,
when I presented them to my sister Peggy, they looked just peachy.
Yes, I did tell her the whole story.
Because it was too funny not to.
So the briskets are in the oven, because briskets are always
better the second day, and my to-do and to-cook lists are close to hand.
It's party time.
I hope you are still celebrating on this Christmas weekend,
and if you are coming to our party, we'll clear the driveway
just for you!
Merry Christmas -- Cass