Eve/ning

In the earlier dusk, Gus and I walked gingerly across the ice to our church's early service. For two people not used to attending on this evening before Santa has long been in the air, we were unaware that this earliest time slot is firmly kid-oriented. Indeed, the pews were full, but primarily of "C & E's" and their typically ill-behaved children, treating the pews as if at the local Chuck-E-Cheese. It was nice, but definitely not an event to be repeated. Following worship, Gus told me of the crotchety old priest of his childhood, Father Castellano, who would stop his sermon, point his finger and demand fidgety children be removed to the quiet room before he would continue. Hmm...

But now, by gosh, by golly, it's time for mistletoe and holly! Tasty pheasants, Christmas presents, countrysides covered with snow. Our two well-dressed birds are roasting in the oven as we enjoy a glass of champagne and savory hors d'oeuvres. Despite the atmosphere of cheer and the celebrations at hand, admittedly, our small evening has been punctuated with bouts and waves of good old fashioned homesickness. I miss my traditions and my people, the warmth of familiarity and family. I'm not be a person who wants to miss out on the holiday happenings. Neither of us has ever celebrated Christmas alone, and likely and hopefully, won't again after this year. Indeed, next year at this time, all our troubles will be out of sight. But until then, I'm told to have myself a Merry little Christmas now.