evening carols and days of gratitude
notes from maggie's farm
I am grateful, this evening, for dreams. Big dreams, small dreams, child-like sugar plum dreams. Dreams for all sizes, seasons, reasons.
Two years ago, on Christmas Eve, we were inside wrapping presents all day long, listening to carols, eating tamales, drinking spiked cocoa. It was a blissful day. When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter...oh, no, that's another story. When out on the lawn we spied.....snowflakes!! There were only a few, say thirty minutes of the lovely, powdery dance of sugar frosting on the front porch. Enough to confuse the animals. Enough to catch a few on the tips of our tongues. Enough for thirty minutes of delight.
In Texas, White Christmases are a rare occurrence. (We once had a white Easter, though. That was odd.) When we do get snow, which is more likely in January or February, the entire Hill Country shuts down and we start stocking up on bottled water (just like potato salad for funerals, bottled water accompanies all natural disasters and official states of emergency) as if this, for one time in our entire lives, was going to be the 'big one'. We're a funny lot, we Texans, but you knew that didn't you?
So, it's unlikely that we'll see a White Christmas. But a girl can still dream.