“There’s no place like home for the holidays, ” as the song goes. That’s for sure. I am fortunate beyond belief. I have “home” in three different states. Wherever I have family is home to me, so when one of my sisters was coming down to NC for her annual December visit, and she said, “Why don’t you come back with me for Christmas,” I was on it.
It is fourteen degrees this morning in Wisconsin. A fresh few inches of snow greets me. It IS beautiful. I fear for my bones, though. I’m not sure if I have mentioned it before, but I am not the firmest on my feet. One of the many benefits of my yoga practice is improvement in balance, but I’m not sure that’s going to help on snow and ice.
I am spending the first Christmas since 1980 with my dad and ’em, as we say down south. Having lived in the milder winter climates of Arizona and North Carolina for the past thirty-something years, I am not prepared for this weather, even though I did bring my Cuddl Duds. My sisters are supplying me with wool socks and sweaters, heavy jeans and jackets; but they drew the line at loaning underwear. As if…
My bones and body many not be warm enough, but my heart will be. God is good. I am home for the holidays, I am definitely having a white Christmas, and the baby Jesus is born December 25, no matter where I am.