I reluctantly put away all the Christmas cheer throughout the day. I am not ready to stop hearing and singing Christmas songs and saying Merry Christmas. I am not ready to stop finding Christmas cards in my mailbox, and I am definitely not ready to get back to the routine of school. Yet, today the Christmas tree was stripped of its lights and ornaments and tossed away, just as the boxes of Christmas decorations and wreaths were packed and rendered to the lonely attic. And lastly, the Christmas music was sadly stored in the Christmas box in the stereo cabinet until next year.
A walk around the block where the sound of Mr. Putter's nails on the pavement reminded me of the typewriters of my youth. The children were riding their bikes and we were walking a rapid pace to keep up.
Home to jigsaw puzzles and coffee, the making of yeast rolls and the putting a pot of black-eyed peas to boil.
Alan set the table tonight. I can always tell, his glass of iced tea is placed where it should be for him, on the left side.