Thursday, December 11, 2014
I daydream about my home looking like this over the holidays.
I miss my grandparents all the time in all sorts of ways. Today I missed the box of pecans my grandmother Lorene used to send, from her tree, for the holidays. The thought made me then miss Alexi’s grandfather, who always sent maple syrup from his property in New Hampshire.
Nelly manages to make it Christmas all year long. The UPS truck inevitably begins tailgating us on our mid-morning walk as it stutters its way down the street. She won’t budge once she spots it; the driver always has a milkbone for her. She waits expectantly for him to catch up with us and then, bone in mouth, briskly trots toward home. If we happen to encounter Mr. UPS again she shamelessly double-dips, dropping the one he gave her earlier. He spoils her relentlessly. The neighborhood raccoons probably feast every night on our yardfull of buried bones.