Well, dear Lord, it's been the busiest Christmas Eve day I can remember. Lily brought her babies over at nine and the first thing that happened is they all wanted breakfast. So I made two egg-in-a-hole breakfasts, one cheese toast breakfast, and one scrambled eggs and toast breakfast. All were enjoyed except for Maggie's which was the scrambled eggs, because she said they didn't smell right. Since we'd just gathered them ten minutes before I cooked them I really don't think there was a problem with them but she decided she'd eat a graham cracker for breakfast and she did.
The picture you see above is Boppy and Owen moving the garage refrigerator into the house where it now sits in the hallway. Hurray, hurray! I don't have to walk out to the garage to get a yogurt. Of course this all involved cleaning out the old and newer refrigerators, and transferring all of my teetering-on-going-bad food into the hallway refrigerator.
That child is such a hoot.
"What's like a dream?" I asked him.
"Us all being together like this!" he said.
Oh my heart. He is the sweetest child.
It's okay. It is all okay even though Hank and Rachel have colds and we're all going to test tomorrow for Covid before we gather together because Vergil's family is coming to visit soon and we do NOT want to give them any horrible Florida variant that we may have picked up inadvertently. Rachel got the cold first in their house and did get tested and was negative so I assume they both will be but they don't want to spread a cold either so...
Once again, things may be different.
I've spent time with all of my grandchildren this week, I am not feeling as if I want to spend Christmas day drinking and sobbing, I am proud of my family for facing challenges bravely and head-on, and I just feel so very, very lucky.
Mr. Moon and I just toasted each other, and then we kissed.
I love that man. And in that, in him and his love, I believe I am luckiest of all.
Happy Friday, y'all. And oh hell- why not? Merry Fucking Christmas.