The day was a good one, with people picking up orders and just stopping by to say hello. There is something special about being in a place for a while—and we have been in Peninsula for 20 years. Folks know us, they ask about our family, and we ask about theirs.

At the end of the day, we stopped at a friend’s to have a glass of wine and some cheese and fruit. Then off to the grocery store–we got there 10 minutes before they closed—to get a few things.

Christmas morning was cold and dry. The ground was frozen so there was no mud. We are beyond the days where we had to tell our children that they couldn’t wake us until it was light outside. We were up and on our second cup of coffee well before our daughters emerged from their rooms. The magic of Christmas morning is different from the way it was in years past, but it is still magic.

#2 daughter and I made pita bread for the first time. She made falafel and a delicious cucumber yogurt sauce to take over the stream and through the woods to Grandma’s house. We shared sandwiches, veggies, and other munchies. A pot of coffee graced the table. Grandma had made her fruitcakes, strudel, mince pies and peanut butter pie for #2.

Home for the evening, quietly enjoying the time together. Grazing, watching a move, and my fingers tappity tapping the keys. A good day.

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