Well, I am not starting the New Year off so well. For four days now I have been writing today’s blog in my head. Heaven forbid I actually write anything ahead of time. Of course, as often happens, the picture that I also had in my head had not yet been scanned. But - waa-ha – I got a printer/scanner/copier for Christmas, which has been set up for printing and copying. Miraculously it only took a few minutes to find a cable and set it up to scan. Now I am in business. Except that I can’t find the snapshot that I had in mind to scan. I don’t know what is wrong with me. Why am I so disorganized?
Ok, so because I only seem to work well – or work at all – under pressure, I grabbed a picture out of my family archive file. And here it is. Christmas 1967.
I just turned six, which would make my sister Pat eight years old. I don’t quite know what we are playing with. Looks like Pat is about to open one of those snake cans. You know the ones where the snake on a spring jumps out at you scaring you half to death? I don’t think that’s what it is.
I love the tree, though. Not like any trees I have had in my house recently. I think Dad probably cut this one out of the swamp. And Mom spent hours hanging the tinsel, strand by delicate strand.
Also, note where the stockings are hung in the background. We were too poor to even afford a fire place. We had to hang our stockings on the built-in bookcase. (I blogged about that once already.)
Ok, that’s it for Christmas this year. I promise I will be back on task by Thursday. Stay tuned.
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