I realized when I was pregnant with my daughter that I had inherited a genetic disposition for sentimentality. Nowhere is this more apparent than at Christmastime, when I fail valiantly at restraining myself from spending money on children. Stocking stuffers are my weakness.
My other weakness are the blown glass ornaments (in the Christopher Radko or Polonaise style) I have been collecting since Bob and I have been together. Pictured here is my favorite ornament: if you are unaware of my other identity, this might explain my fondness.
Speaking of my daughter, the title of today's post is from her childhood. As a toddler, she called the Christmas tree "moi tee tee." She would sing "O Christmas tree" as "O Moi Teetee! O Moi Teetee! How lovely are dy banches!" At a Christmas party last night, her godmother and I spontaneously burst into caroling of this very song.
Bob's fond of saying, "Christmas looks best in my rearview mirror," but that was before Logan was in our lives. Really: Christmas is for children. We give no gifts to grown-ups—is there anything more off-putting that the "what'd ya get me? what'd ya get me?" vibe?
At any rate, my post today has nothing to do with farms. I just want to wish warm and happy holidays to everyone: be it Christmas, Hannukah, Kwanzaa, or the winter solstice. (And hey, happy summer solstice to those of you in the Southern Hemisphere. Are we bloggers global, or what?)
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Good news: the recipe for the best biscotti I've ever had is posted at Farmgirl Fare!
Thought for the day: "He that would live in peace and at ease must not speak all he knows or all he sees."
Thanks for visiting. And now I'm off to cook a twenty-three pound turkey!