O! Christmas Tree

I am a little too taken with our Christmas Tree.  Every year when we lug it out of the garage, we tell ourselves when we next put it in the box, we will have some "taking out order" to the task.

Every ornament, at this stage in life, has a story.  I gave most of mine to a granddaughter a few years ago.  But what I kept, I treasure and cherish.

The star on top was one my father cut out of a chrome car part in 1933 or '34 for my parent's Christmas long ago.

The little knitted dolls were given to me by a lovely elderly lady, Lempi, in Finland, who shared her small apartment with my mother and me in 1980.  She was a cousin of some of the Cave Hills Finns.

The small white feather snowball was one of a dozen I made from some Canada Snow Goose feathers that a neighbor fellow gave me after he hunted one Nebraska Winter.

He Whom I Love to Obey and I were alone, but not lonely, this Holiday. We laced the table, lighted candles, and opened large boxes full of many wondrous gifts, sent by sons and their families.

We drank champaign and dined on 'sweets and nuts' on Christmas Eve and shared our love and appreciation for one another.
Merry Christmas!