Leftovers

The day after Christmas, and what do I do

But write another poem to you

To wish you well in the coming year 

And also to those whom you hold dear 

Fiorella got so carried away by rhyming that it was hard for her to stop so, fortunately, Granddaughter pulled her out of her room to play with Christmas toys and four-year old fantasies--starring yours truly as the baby. Along the way, your also got swabbed with a kiddie make up, which is apparently all the rage now.

Apparently Fio ate something that she shouldn't have--or maybe too much of everything she shouldn't have--at the Christmas celebration at Son L's in-laws--because her stomach has been complaining ever since she got up this morning.

Nostalgia reins supreme. Fio has been prowling through some old photos today and came across a collection of pics from a Christmas about ten years ago, when she and Husband were still on the ranch and your girl decorated everything that wouldn't fight back. Sigh--those were the days.  Maybe next year she'll be able to gussy up the new house to her specifications, but right now she hasn't even gotten herself settled in yet. Sigh....

Oops, excuse me. I just now glanced down the front of my nightgown and discovered that my gown is on inside out.