ADVENT PRELUDE

In my childhood (the ‘50s), a syndicated serialized story about Santa Claus appeared weekdays in our newspaper during the month of December, from the first until just before Christmas. Mother and I would read that day’s installment before I went to school.

According to online research, these syndicated advent serials were written by journalist Lucrece Beale. The story presented a problem that Santa had to solve in order to meet the Christmas deadline. You can read the history of these delightful serials here – and even some of the stories.

A storywriter I am not, but during December, I make this blog into a countdown to Christmas by posting a new installment every day. My little story is usually based on the Christmas happenings that my grandmother, Ina Dickson Dobson (1870-1958), shared with my dad by letter. I call it fictionalized family history.

Grandma Ina is the ghost in my life. It’s not that I sense her presence, but because we live in her house, I think of her often and wonder if she would be pleased. Unfortunately, she and I never bonded due to the gap between old age and youth, but I’m having fun with her now, and wherever she is, I hope she doesn’t mind.

I write this simple advent project to entertain myself, and hopefully the muse will stay with me until Christmas is here. I don’t know where the story will take me this year because of real-time activities, but rest assured, Ina is happy as she prepares for Christmas in her world. I hope you enjoy this holiday offering. KW

A QUICK FARMHOUSE UPDATE

The cistern lid at the farm had failed, and we weren’t sure how to replace it. After pondering the matter for some months – perhaps years – last week Mike fashioned a new cover out of pressure treated lumber.

  

So, yesterday (Wednesday, Nov. 28), we took said cover and went to the farm. With sledge hammer in hand, Mike broke the remaining cement away from the garbage can which formed the original neck and cleaned the top of the cistern. Then he cut openings in the new cover for the spigot and wiring. Now it's neatly in place. It will have to be sealed somehow, but that’s work for warmer, drier weather.

Meanwhile, inside the house . . .

 

. . . the kitchen countertops have been laid. 

 

. . . the dining room wallpaper has been hung.

 

  . . . and the fireplace hearth has been repaired.

Progress. Slow -- but progress. KW

IN REMEMBRANCE OF HARRIET

My sister Harriet mailed her Christmas cards the day after Thanksgiving. Her card was always the first we received, sometimes by weeks. Sending her cards early was just one of the ways that Harriet made herself unforgettable.

I have been saving Christmas cards because I believe it’s a disappearing practice. Today I found Harriet's last Christmas card (2015 -- shown here) and three others. No, it’s not the same as receiving her card in my mailbox, but on the other hand, Harriet selected her cards with care. Does the warmth of a heartfelt greeting ever fade? If she were here and active today, those of us on her list would have received her best wishes for the coming holiday and the year beyond, or perhaps even an affirmation of our importance to her. And I know she still wishes us that today. KW