We’ve had a packed house at Chez First on Goose Creek. There were nine of us–probably the most people sleeping under this old tin roof of a night since it was abandoned as an alter-native commune in the late 90s.
My mom saw her FIRST white Christmas and for the FIRST time met her great-grandson, Henry Dillon–named after her father’s side of the family, the grandfather I never met. There were a lot of reasons to think she might never get to hold Henry in her lap.
It was our FIRST time to hear our grand daughter Abby play the violin. Unfortunately, the rented instrument blew a string during its first tuning. She soldiered on, and performed a duet with our friend Randall playing a Christmas carole on the piano.
Youngest grand daughter Taryn had met but not spent any time with her cousin Henry. She asked almost hourly “Can I pet him?” In the image above, her mother is coaching her over Christmas Ham in the melodramatics of whining pitifully. The back of the hand to the head adds real pathos and angst. I think in time, Princess Taryn will become almost as good an actress as her mother.
My daughter’s family rented a (not 4WD) car in ROA, and we learned last night it made it all the way to Cullowhere. They’ll pass back through to spend Wednesday night before flying out for South Dakota on Thursday.
Ann got snow-drifted in at the hospital last night, leaving me with plenty of house work to do before she returns, in recovery from the bomb blast that was the FIRST Family Christmas of 2010. More about which, tomorrow, if I can get my blogging mojo back.