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Tag Archives: Christmas memories
I’ve just turned 4, as I sneak a peek at our tree, already suspecting Santa is really my mother, because why else would she be putting stuff under it in her nightgown. I may be short, but I’m not stupid. … Continue reading
I’ve been thinking a lot about my mother who loved Christmas. I always feel her over my shoulder whenever buying gifts, since I inherited my holiday leanings from her. Our house could have been a Hallmark ad the way she … Continue reading
It’s Christmas, and I’m pissed Panera isn’t open. I know Susannah, give them a break on the holiest of holidays. I just hauled out my ancient electric coffee pot with the cord wrapped in gaffer’s tape about to make the … Continue reading