Thursday, December 21, 2006
Happy solstice everybody; feel that winter steal into your heart and awake to the land of long nights growing shorter. We enjoyed a pre-Christmas visit from Santa, complete with stocking booty shown here. No, the 2002 issue of Zoonooz was not used as a stocking stuffer. Later that morning the boy sang, which is to say that he swayed back in forth with the music, in front of our packed church. He was by far the youngest, and it amazed me how he made it through the whole 15 minute program without losing stage presence. Father-son performance art pieces dance like sugar-plums on the head of a pin inserted deep into my cerebellum. When we asked him what he wanted for Christmas he said "Candy". "Anything else?" "No, just candy, and chocolate." I've become convinced that my kids have all the memories that I have up until the time of their conception. My father-in-law tells me that theory has been disproved, but science falls short often enough that I remain undaunted, and sure that it's true.