Merry Christmas from Casa de major dad
Our little Christmas miracle? Our wee little backyard ~ with it’s river birch, a “hybrid” (don’t ask), Drake elm and crepe myrtle ~ was filled with THE most wonderful collection of birds ever. Wow. A number of never before seen visitors has alighted, like juncos! Oh, how we adored the little charcoal guys in North Carolina, and here they are. Our very first flights of goldfinches and sparrows joined the yellow-bellied sapsucker on and around the Drake. (The ubiquitous purple finches are always hogging the tube feeder.) Bluebirds were clearing the yard of grubs, the cardinal pair was resplendent in their puffy prettiness, a warbler worked the jasmine, the mockingbird bounced into the yard to flex his muscle, while the blue jay just hung upside down from the feeder he can’t quite crack. Mourning doves still sit motionless among the bare branches, waiting for the chaos to subside, but the chickadee pair is working hard at keeping the place lively anyway.
Between the decimated, tree-less yard we inherited, the unending development construction and two major hurricanes, honestly ~ we never thought we’d see this day. Wow.
Almost time to pull the prime rib out and beer steam some shrimps for cocktail. Ebola’s still snoring in the backroom ~ trying to pack as much into these last two days before he takes off for bootcamp is exhausting business. I’m trying to ignore his leaving, but that’s a mom thing. (If Kcruella could tough it out and gracefully handle her only child enlisting, I have to try. But I’m an acknowleged weenie.) After stuffing ourselves, we’ll chill out with “Christmas in Connecticut” and the Alien movie of his choice.
Like always.
And we’ll think of all the troops in uniforms in places none of us would ever want to be and hope they can sense our love, our best wishes, and the fervent hope that our prayers for their safety can blanket the lot of them successfully. And try to think of who we know ~ even slightly ~ who could really, really use that phone call on Christmas, because the chances of them getting one at all are slim. And we will thank the power in this universe who gives us such plenty, such good health and such comfort, and be humbled at our blessings.
Which includes the bounty of friends we are likewise blessed with and so unworthy of. You all are the best.
Biggest hugs, dear Swillers. Merry Christmas.
Fun | tree hugging sister | 
December 25, 2009 2:01 pm
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Merry Christmas THS and Maj Dad!
Merry Christmas to all youse Bangacola Swillers!
And good luck, Ebola! March into boot camp and follow orders. ‘Cuz, you’re like a recruit, dude.
PS: What are the Scotties doing with your avian windfall? Quivering in terror?
And to you, dear Sis
A yellow-bellied sapsucker! What’s Harry Reid doing in your backyard? You certainly have a greater variety of birds than we do in Arizona. But we have cactus wrens and you don’t, so there, just so there.
Christmas in Connecticut! One of my favorites along with Mr. Blanding Builds his Dream House. That would be the old version with Barbara Stanwyck, Dennis Morgan and Sydney Greenstreet. Not the one with Kris Kris the Fonda loving red in it!!
Good luck to Ebola!
Merry Christmas to the House of Major Dad and best wishes to all! Ebola, good luck and much success at boot camp. I’m proud of you and will be thinking of you!:)