Saturday, December 25, 2010

Christmas Day, and the memories tumble in...

people live in their pajamas on Christmas morn, seems to me. Since I wasn't one of those that goes to sleep clothed unless I am driving or just too tired riding the motorcycle - well, I have one of my black suits with blue shirt and bright red ties on. Yeah, I am dressed for church this morning. I turned on the computer around the take medicine and get that fresh cup of coffee - and thought about when I spent Christmas Eve in Vietnam writing everyone that I missed them, to including President Nixon at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, DC. There was a truce on, but one had to go to the bunker just in case, everyone brought their plunder from family and friends Stateside, a red sheet covered the chart tables, and we covered it with booze, cookies, fruit cake (my mother's famous rum soaked one), snacks and rock'n rock music on the tape player. It wasn't really Christmas - that was hours away on the other side of the world and we were living under sand bagged bunkers waiting for rockets and mayhem.

Tradition in my mother's house is the reading of Luke 2 before one gets to opening the Christmas presents, although Santa's gifts were large and up front for the children. Then the food, cookies and milk, and opening gifts one by one.

Being on the West coast and three hours behind New York I have come to the realization that Santa doesn't come from the North Pole to my home, he starts in the far west at the international dateline and flies west before the Sun. This morning I opened my computer, found a welcoming email (why is anyone on the computer this time in the morning?) and checked facebook, then started this blog post - and the power went out in the house, standing in my Sunday best, in the dark, trying to write something to share (or get it off my mind) and it is gone into the darkness... Lights come back on, wife cooks oatmeal, and I find most of this was saved automatically... blogger waited just for me. Y'all have a very happy Christmas, Threecollie found a calf waiting in the barn. All we get is a child born to us this day in the city of David. If I could spell Alleluia! I would, but I will just sing it.

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