Friday, December 25, 2009
On my way out to the chicken house this morning, I thought to myself, "Why can't the children make Christmas breakfast?"
And so they are.
We're waiting on my mother to get here to eat and the open pillowcases, uh, I mean presents.
Everyone is happy and passing our baby boy around, dancing around to Ella Fitzgerald singing, swinging Christmas songs.
The washing machine is chugging a load of diapers clean.
The sausage and eggs are ready.
It's a gray day in Lloyd but we don't mind.
We have our own light.
Merry Christmas to all of you. You have no idea how much I cherish each and every one of you. You are all part of my light.