It’s Christmas Adam. Several of my kids had never heard of that, and they find it hilarious. (Frankly, so do I, and I *have* heard of it.)
Today, on Christmas Adam, we have outstanding window decorations. I love when the frost on the window does its own beadwork. It’s my favorite kind of Jack Frost art, and I wonder from time to time whether this is the kind Laura and Carrie played with, with Caroline’s thimbles.
Today, on Christmas Adam, the feed-wagon tractor started — it didn’t yesterday, and Jeremy had to ask for help, which was so graciously provided, but it’s always better for the independent among us to do our own work.
Today, on Christmas Adam, we are left knocking on wood because so far all the cattle water-ers are still water-er-ing the cattle. So far.
Today, on Christmas Adam, I did two pieces of design work, bringing me to the point where I can put the computer away for about ten days. I am not sad.
Today, on Christmas Adam, the children have done things. This is actually notable, lest you wonder. They have a tendency to think inside the box, and by “box” I mean “glowing screen.”
Today, on Christmas Adam, we’ve had shared music, with all five kids singing this one really inexplicably catchy song at one point. We’ve had Connect Four. One kid made a giant cookie and we had it for snack and it was SUPER GOOD. There’s a puzzle in progress. Really. A jigsaw puzzle. There’s a little soda-shop set that is entirely too messy, but all of a sudden kids have been playing soda-shop games with it. Even this — I have enlisted help for some kind of menu idea (not the worst part of cooking, but ranking right up there) and then also for dishes, and it was given willingly.
Today, on Christmas Adam, I worked my way through a book from my friend Dewain’s giant box of books. Over the last three-plus decades, Dewain has shared everything from Ayn Rand to Nora Roberts with me. We don’t always see eye to eye, I am discovering through this box, but I’m looking for gems in it. I’m going to read every single one of them, and the resulting ever-so-brief reviews will appear here after I’ve done so.
Today, on Christmas Adam, I’m grateful for a warm house and good windbreak, for coffee and blankets and health, for people who employ me and people who buy beef and corn-related things, for the helpers of the world, for my friends across all kinds of zip codes and time zones, for the mere idea that this year Christmas coincides with Sunday.
Today, on Christmas Adam, things are good. Imperfect, as is typical, but good. And best Christmas blessings to one and all.
This Prairie Life. 