well, the stockings are hung, but...

Once again I have been drug into Christmas kicking and spitting, like a cat getting a bath. Once again, now that it is done, I want to let what is left of Christmas magic fill my soul. The tree is up, the gifts are purchased and wrapped, the house is filled with fresh flowers and greens, and the guest room sits in orderly anticipation waiting for my middle child to arrive. He however has been sitting at JFK since nine this morning on standby, his flight from Seattle delayed because of an unprecedented six inches of snow. In normal times he could have gotten on the next flight, but it is Christmas so all the seats are full. My daughter called me from her friend's house in DC to reassure me that he will get here and of course, she is right. It's only that right now having decorated the house and trimmed the tree by myself while my husband watched football, I'm not quite feeling the Christmas thing. I can promise you the boy stranded in NYC airport is muttering a bit of bah humbug under his breath too.