White Christmas ...

Looks like we're having one! It's a gray-skied Tuesday, windy and wet. Snow is in the forecast. Add new fluff to the blanket already on the ground and YES! a white Christmas it is!!
Tomorrow's Christmas Eve day, and I am ready. Gifts are wrapped, food is bought, cookies are baked. The freezer is stocked. A few pies need to be made, but that's still fun stuff.
Looking forward to Midnight Mass, looking forward to Christmas morning, up early as I am wont to do (I'm always the first awake, 'tis true!) Much anticipation to watching the kids open their goodies. As always, there will be lots of surprises under the tree. Each year I tell myself that I need to pare down. What child needs 20 gifts to open? I'll tell you: MY children. I'm out of control during the holidays. But it's fantastic, that feeling. And it only comes once a year. And, of course, some of those gifts are tiny, wee little packages. Socks and such.
When my children become engaged I will be sure to tell them: Look, you MUST marry a person who is in love with Christmas as much as you; otherwise, there will be great strife in your home.
Fortunately, my husband is the quintessential holiday man. He loves Christmas and all that it brings. My only complaint: Each year he announces, with a shrug of the shoulders, "All I want for Christmas is love and understanding." A great sentiment, yes indeed. But trying buying presents for a man who only wants love. Love, after all, cannot be bought. (This year I am gifting him with a half-season ticket package of T-Bones baseball! I'm so excited to see his expression!!)
Outside of shopping, it's been a beautifully busy season. I've attended three symphonies (I shall never grow weary of hearing "Sleighride"), one "Live From Radio City Music Hall, The Rockettes A Christmas Spectacular!," and one CHRISTMAS CAROL full-throttle production at the lovely Missouri Repertory Theatre. For this, Has and I and Elizabeth dressed in our finest, and then immediately dripped barbecue sauce on ourselves post-show once we were seated, plates heavy with pork and beef and fries, at Gates Barbecue. My goodness, I do so love me some Gates Barbecue. If I am ever on death row I will order the ham-on-a-bun/fry combination as my last meal. Extra pickles, please.
Oh, must say: The Rockettes were a long-legged vision to behold. I turned to my husband after one particularly sizzling dance routine and asked, ever so seriously, "So, Honey, do you think it's too late for me to become a Rockette?"
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Here's wishing all of my blog readers (OK, the five or six that I have!) a joyous holiday with family and friends.
Blessings,
Kate