Happy Friday, Gentle Readers,
The time has come at stately Brown Manor to decorate for Christmas. So bright and early tomorrow morning, I will venture into the deep recesses of the garage. There, I will disturb whatever black widow spiders and scorpions may have survived the last freeze and try to remember what boxes contain ornaments, lights, garlands, and whatever else we’re hanging on the walls, doors, ceiling, etc.
We aren’t doing outdoor lights this year. Women, like my wife, for some reason, prefer the tasteful, elegant, and streamlined look of solid white lights. I, being a guy, prefer a veritable riot of color when it comes to lights. So we have opted not to worry about it this year. Plus, years ago, the ladder slipped while I was hanging lights on the roof, and I still have flashbacks.
We did have one Christmas emergency. Our granddaughter called us on Wednesday. Her Elf on the Shelf had fallen from its perch and into the dog bowl. My granddaughter was afraid her elf had drowned and had called grandma, a nurse practitioner for advice. My wife told her to dry off Miss Elf, put her on the tree to rest, and put just a touch of hot cocoa with…
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