The Day Before Xmas

Per tradition, we visit R Chubb and Son for the Christmas goose. Sonnet asks to cut the wing off "at the joint" which is an awfully brutal instruction to give the butcher. Ken allows Eitan behind the knives and the boy embarrassed that I make room for my photo

From there, we go to the boozeria so I can buy wine and Absolute for my own little holiday.  It is a long distance between Christmas and New Year's, after all. For now, the parties and people behind us and so it is me, the family+the dog, who picks up a Flintstones sized bone from R Chubb.  Sonnet busies herself with the festive cheer and I blog away for you, my dear, dedicated, reader. All 20 of you, God bless.  I also write for the kids when they are 20 or 30 or whenever. And me, too, to remember it all. It is true what they say :  time speeds up as we grow older.