Grey, heavy skies, temps in the 40s, wind rattling the brown leaves left on the trees, rain spattering and pattering on the deck and the sidewalk; such a gloomy day that after I finished eating lunch Willow abandoned any pretense of being companionable and has retreated into the warm den of her crate. I should put the fire on, but while I'm working I can't enjoy it, so I have settled for lighting the gingerbread candle. So here I sit as I "groom" purchase requests so that they become neat little purchase orders, and while orders are building or things are printing, I whisk the last bits of Thanksgiving and fall away, so the house may be groomed for a Christmas makeover.

I watched "Lassie's Gift of Love" at lunchtime while whisking things away since the incidental music has been running through my head since last night and I could hardly resist its siren call. As an adult I can note all the "things not right" with the scenery—I know the "snow" is wet soapflakes (you can see it dripping off the trees) and the woods are a soundstage and the cave where Lassie finds the wolf cubs looks fake—but it always works its magic and by the time Ruth utters the last line "It's the happiest night of the year," my eyes are misting up. "All is well."

Labels: Christmas, decorating, television, work

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 3:08:00 PM

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