Zora Travels

Holiday Blur

Merry merry to my beloved eight readers.  I have lacked Internet or time or energy or proper mood to post for such a very long time.  Tonight, with a belly full of dinner, a sleeping baby, the sounds of Andrea Bocelli melting "Ave Maria" into the air, I have sat down determined to post.  Something.  Anything.  Short or Long. Words or pictures.

The holidays have been a blur. Not just because of the whirlwind of activity but the flurry that is my daughter.  With her 15 months of vigor and scant interest in "independent time," I find us attached at the hip.  

She's my sidekick....

• When she wakes up around 5am.
• As I make breakfast.
• When I sweep the floor.
• As I go to the bathroom.
• When I wash/dry/fold diapers.
• As I clean the cat boxes.
• When I packed the old house.
• As I unpacked at the new house.
• When I made Christmas cards.
• As I mailed the Christmas cards.
• When I bought Christmas presents for all of my family and Daniel's.
• As I mailed some gifts at the post office.
• When I wrapped all the remaining gifts.
• As we celebrated Christmas Eve at my Mom's.
• When we flew to Vegas to Daniel's family on Christmas Day.
• As she eats dinner.
• When she falls asleep around 7pm.

Always near.

But I know and I savor and I linger in the sweet moments that we have together each day...just as I wish and pray and hope for a few minutes without her.  This balance between wanting her snuggled to my chest, patting my face with her velvet palm, slowly blinking her aburdly long lashes, wisps of hair spraying out behind her ears and hoping for space to write, to think, to read, to just be alone.

My second Christmas Season as a mother has come and went.  Most of my important memories were created...the sugar cookie baking, the decorating of a Christmas bush (rosemary, to be exact), the hanging of the parole, and the sipping of egg nog (which Lulu adored).

New traditions also began.  The pitter-patter of visiting toddlers exchanging gifts with Nora.  Her whimsical crayon scribbles on Christmas cards.  A new hearth holding our stockings.  

And now some pictures.  Of celebrations, of family, and of our amazing and cuddly Blur.

 

 

 Lovin' her some Nog.  Good girl.  Like your Mum!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three of my favorite things.  Parole (illuminated shell star from the Philipines), angel topper, and a decorated Christmas tree (or rosemary bush when you just moved in and are leaving for a week on Christmas day).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our new mantel (and the soon-to-be-painted livingroom wall)...bedecked with Christmas cards and our stockings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A "it's getting late folks" family shot in front of my Mom's finery.  Noodle is really thrilled it's Christmas Eve...she just wishes it could be celebrated a few hours earlier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grandma Lola.  Can it get more luminescent than this octogenarian and our sweet pea?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let the unwrapping begin.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Behold - wooden fruit and a wooden knife.  Cut, cut, cut.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The three cutest booties in Vegas.  Nora with her cousins, Che Che and Bea.

 

 

 

 

"Wow, fish."

 

 

 

 

 

"Show me again, Ninang Daisy."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Che Che thinks that Nora kissing her reflection is the funniest thing EVER.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nora agrees.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The "Mom is a whopping two feet away from me" shot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recovered.

 

 

 

 

 

Fun at Sunset Park.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Lemme go, lemme go, lemme go down."

 

 

 

 

 

"more, more, more, more"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Dog, dog, dog, dog, dooooog!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A toddler on a mission.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Dad, you're so funny!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Snuggles.

Home Stretch

I know, I know.  It's been a very LONG time.  This computer no longer uploads photos and the video-recorder has a dead battery (and batteries are now buried in a box).  So, all you'll get are my words. 

We move this Sunday.  A gigantic truck will pull in, out will pop four tattooed-burly mean wearing back braces and smiles.  They will gingerly place all treasured items and furniture into the truck.  Within hours we will be settled in to our new home, roasting chestnuts, and listening to Bing Crosby's "White Christmas."

Wait, w.a.i.t.one.second...that was just a dream I had.

Yet, the truth could be closer than I think.  Four men will arrive at 9:00am.  Inked flesh, maybe not. Smiles, we shall see.  But the truck will fill, felt-padded furniture will be dropped, and we will call a new nook of Long Beach home.

That night, strange streetlights will spill new shadows across our bed.  Dark forms of boxes will pepper the corners and shiny wood floors throughout our home.  Nora will slumber in her turquoise-splashed room.  Foil taped to her windows (since her curtains are a project my mom & I want to tackle with more time and love).  Maxwell and Sophie will be confused and scampering behind mountains of crap, their fur sticking to strands of brown tape curling back from opened boxes.

And in the midst of this nerve-wracking move (of which Daniel claims is "no big deal"...while, my mom friends say it is close to the stress of a divorce), I will seek solace and comfort in the sweet smell of pine and the soothing balm of the Christmas season.  Yes, folks, we are going to get a tree.   Our evergreen friend will have a brief stint...but it is needed.  For my heart and my hands and my family. This is my favorite time of the year!

There are holiday traditions that are so deeply ingrained in the folds of my mind, that not even piles of boxes and daunting house projects can put asunder.

• My mom and I will bake sugar cookies and paint ornaments (with Nora assisting).
• We will poke clove sticks into an orange and hang it by a ribbon.
• Apple cider with cinnamon sticks will bubble on the stove.
• Eggnog spiked with rum will be sipped.
• Daniel and I will unpack each ornament from my childhood and travels and our marriage, and hang them upon the tree (still reserving the glass ones for future years).
• The parole will be hung and dance light in our front window.
• Stockings will be hung above the fireplace.
• The cats will knock pine needles and ornaments down.
• Nora will eat pine needles and grab more ornaments down.
• ...and Christmas music will fill the air...

We will be home and 'tis the season.

 

 

A New Year boat ride

Our family floated through Naples canals and saw Christmas lights to finish out the first day of the new year.  It was Nora's first boat ride.  And although she spent most of it under a nursing cover, she experienced crisp air and elaborate light displays when she did peak out.

Thanks to our super neighbors and friends, Marisa and Jeremy, who not only invited us out on the duffy boat, but brought Belgian ale and delicate creme-filled mochi. These mochi are incredible.  Found only in Honolulu or Tokyo.  Brought back on dry ice from airport visits once in a blue moon.  Marisa has doled them out generously to me over the past few months.  I very well might make a stop in one of these two cities to pick some up years from now when the memory of them still linger on my mind.

My dear mum also sent pictures of Noodle's baptism and our Catholic wedding blessing.  Below are a few of the best snaps.  It was a memorable day; although I can't say that I would wish to ever repeat the celebration of Christmas Eve, packing on Christmas Day, flying to Vegas, late family party, early rise for priest interview, rush to the church, participate in two masses to celebrate both a baptism and a religious marriage blessing...followed by another family party.  They were three whirlwind days with a baby in tow that left my head spinning.  Luckily, Daniel's family took care of the planning and execution of the event.  We merely participated. 

Not often does a bride not even know what their ceremony will ask them to affirm.  I suddenly found myself in the awkward position of agreeing to "submit" to my husband and "be a good housewife."  Phrases that would have NEVER crossed my lips, had I been involved in selecting the readings.  My Berkeley-feminist breath was literally sucked out of my body....and I dug deep to pull my jaw up off the floor and nod.  But these occasions were very special to Daniel's family and some of my family were sweet enough to come to Vegas the day after Christmas to share the day with us.  My heart hurt that my best friends, brother's family, and father couldn't make it...but it was a difficult date to attend from afar.

 

The baptism was lovely.  Nora bathed in the lights, deep voices, and scenery of the beautiful church.  Even when the priest poured water and oil on her head, she remained quiet and observant.  Her only little jump was when the church erupted in clapping to welcome her into the flock.  Still not a tear was shed.  Just a bit of hand gnawing.  She is defintely teething.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chew those hands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The three couples recieving a Catholic marriage blessing.  We exchanged vows and rings again.  It made me tear up a bit and I felt such emotion looking at Daniel while slipping the ring on his finger.

 

 

 

 

 

All the parents.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The four generations!  Grandma Lola made it out despite bronchitis.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Auntie Barbara caught a gummy grin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   Four generations of hands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cousin Marie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Daisy & Courtney (unable to make the event) are Nora's Godmothers.  Jake is her Godfather.  Such a fantastic trio to be a support to Noodle.

Swimming the rivers

We pulled off another Christmas split this year.  Morning with my mom in Long Beach.  Evening with Daniel's family in Vegas.  Previous years this split has felt a bit frazzled...this year it felt like a whirlwind.  Finding and holding onto the holiday spirit whilst packing for myself and Noodle, preparing gifts for both families, nursing, attempting to nap Nora, celebrating at one house and then traveling to the airport for a party late into the night left me a bit weary.  And weary is simply not an option for the embrace and energy of our Vegas family.  No matter the time of our arrival or Nora's protests in her car seat, we always have a huge family gathering waiting.  We left the festive calm of my mom's house serving a warm frittata and povitica to a handful to enter the vibrant love of Daniel's grandma's house serving shrimp lumpia and chicken adobo to a massive crowd -- and even complete with a priest giving a seminar upon our arrival.

I have never before walked into a private home with a priest conducting a reflective lesson.  By this late hour on Christmas night at either my mom's or dad's, I would have been sipping on Bailey's and watching "A Christmas Story" in my pajamas.  In Vegas, we were circling our character adjectives and holding hands to sing religious songs in Kapampangan...and you have the unspoken feeling that a female drinking a cocktail is not encouraged.  I am never more struck by the diverse flavors of our families then when I split the day between the two.  It is exciting to know that Nora will always swim these two rivers as one.  She will relish her various cultures, savor the flavors of the Croats and the Filipinos, and enjoy a few phrases of her Lolas (my grandma is named Lola and in Daniel's family dialect, Kapampangan, all older women are "Lola"). She will always know this holiday medley.  One home with ipods calmly playing carols and another with jingles being belted out on the karaoke machine.  One with an emphasis on Santa...the other with an emphasis on Jesus.  Neither better or worse.  Both overflowing with hugs, kisses, memories, laughter, and stories.  Each family showering her with attention, smiles, and coos.  We are lucky.

Four generations.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Four generations.

 

A "kissy sandwich"

**The 4th installment of our "Christmas Tree" photo shoot.

Ever since Nora was born, we have approached each side of her cherubim face and told her to get ready for a "kissy sandwich."  Some days she is simply shocked by the assault, other days it causes a toothless drooly grin, and many days it causes her grave irritation.  But to us, these sandwiches are bliss.  Looking across her face to one another, covering her silken skin with our kisses, and holding her together between us.  She is between us now.  This is true in both the beautiful and literal form.  Nora now occupies a large space in our hearts, in our bed, and also in our marriage.

Tomorrow she attends her first family Christmas Eve party with my family.  The following day we spend Christmas with Daniel's family.  It will be a week of family visits, our Catholic wedding and Nora's baptism.  A holiday more colorful, emotional, rich, and probably exhausting than any I've ever experienced.

 

A Christmas Memory

**The next installment of the "Tree Shoot."  We were apparently boring her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weeks ago Daniel started talking about trains.  As a little boy of 8 or 9, he received a train for Christmas.  His voice had such a sweetness when he spoke of playing with it and I started to imagine his face if I gave him one.  The research began.  Which gauge of track, which company, which design?  There are hobby stores an hour away...online stores a click away.  Tubes of smoke, bridges, and miniature people.

Then we went to my cousin's house for the anual cookie exchange.  There, around Wayne's tree, chugged a long train with passenger sillouettes lit up in the cars and a whistling locomotive.  Daniel was smitten.  He sat down aside the train and fiddled with it throughout the evening.  Bringing Nora to sit on his lap and stare in wonderment at the humming machine.  I overheard him mention several times to people that his train set as a boy was one of his favorite gifts ever.

That night I was overtaken with the Santa spirit and with two clicks of my mouse, a train was delivered to our house.  And next to my dear, I sat in great cheer.  Awaiting the rips of the early un-wrapping so bright, Nora bouncing on his knee in delight.  Soon the engine revealed itself, my job quite well done as an elf.  And soon we shall circle the train around our tree, our beautiful family -- a family of three.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Yes, it's an "early" gift.  Otherwise, we leave for his family's house and wouldn't have a chance to see it under our tree this Christmas."

Holiday Photo Shoot

In my perfect "Christmas Tree Photo Shoot" vision, Max and Sophie would have hopped into their stockings with their paws clutching the velvet edge, Daniel would have agreed to wear matching outfits, and Nora would have fired up her drooly grin in every shot.

Instead - Max and Sophie dug their claws sweetly into my back and lasted only seconds in my arms, I wore a simple barfed-upon henley, and Nora rode the ridge of her evening melt.  But the actual version of the shoot still surpassed the idealized.  There we were - four grown adults jostling toys, bells, tripods, and lighting around our tree.  All of us using elaborate hand movements and high-pitched voices to keep Jingle Nuglett from cracking.  We laughed at the lengths we took to get each picture.  We sipped chocolaty Belgian ale, nibbled on Jeremy's parents' cookies, and listened to carols.

And to our delight, our dear neighbors and friends had a gorgeous Santa hat to try Nora's patience.  Below is one of the best pics and the video that captures some of the antics.  Each day leading up to Christmas, I will post another photo. 

 

 

 

 

'Tis the Season

I am committed to blogging today.  Not to run myself ragged doing it...but typing when I can.  Even if it's a jumbled ball of disjointed sentiment.

'Tis the season to be merry.  And merry I am.  Quite simply - overjoyed.  It is my favorite time of year and I have great - make that enormous - fortune.  I mean consider my situation as we speak.  Tummy full of a microwaved tamale, fresh water in a jug, Nora napping (but stirring) on a video monitor, music playing through my smartphone on speakers (from an internet app that creates playlists for me), a gigantic tree filling the house with the smell of pine, pitter-pattering (and puking and shitting) cats scampering by, and a dear old friend from middle school (reconnected through facebook) coming over any minute.  Life is pretty grand.

So, why no blog posts lately?  Well, I had never experienced this joyous time o' year with a baby.  I am used to jumping into creative and ambitious tasks for Christmas.  This year was no different.  Mounds of salty dough ornaments, baked hard, and ready for shiny festive paint awaited my time.  Mountains of ivory stationary awaited the cut outs, family picture, stamping, and writing.  Oodles of packages awaited the wrapping, safely packing, labeling, and mailing...not to mention the mini-shopping trips that it took to acquire the items. 

Here's what I'm used to -- swooping through stores in a marathon of shopping to accomplish the buying.  Lengthy weekend afternoons to accomplish the creative touches.  One solid hour of standing in line at the post with my parcels.  All of these tasks, so simple before, take a bit more calculating.  I find myself, when blessed with some extra time, asking the same question, "Do I work on cards, paint ornaments, decorate the tree, wrap packages, do the dishes, pump breastmilk, shower, eat, or simply stare at facebook updates or beloved blogs?"

Often the latter wins.  It is so brainless and entertaining to read about other lives.  My own seems so uneventful and beautifully one-sided...it is Noodle-time-all-the-time.  The piles of LA Times, Time, The Economist, and unread novels continue to stack neatly near the couch and the bed.  One day I know that my post-childbirth blubbering speech, infantile vocabulary, and painful lack of world knowledge will irritate me enough to pick up these texts and take a long slow drink of intelligent thought.  For now, my little computer perched next to my nursing glider is my connection to the world.  I do not have a steady stream of stay-at-home-mom friends nearby.  I have only one, actually.  And understandably her world is as filled with the time-eating joy of mothering as mine.

Where do the hours go?  How is it that the evening stretch of Nora's nap - that starts around 7 or 8 - and lasts until 10 or 11 - always passes so fast.  Sometimes all I've done is sit on the couch and watched Jeopardy or read blogs or Facebook.

Daniel and I are committed to decorating the tree tonight.  "Otherwise we bought giant cat grass,"  he said this morning.

 

***Hours have passed...

My friend that I mentioned from middle school came by.  Noodle was taking a vaccine-induced three hour nap...and it gave Peou and I a chance to catch up.  It felt like no time had passed.  Somehow back in 2000 or 2001 we saw each other at a Valentine's Day brunch and then never again.  Nothing bitter or hurt in the distance...just time passing and lives changing...and today felt wonderful.  Her mannerisms, her smile, her laugh, the way she takes the hair from around her neck, the sparkle in her demeanor - all still there.  Total comfort with her on my couch and holding my waking daughter.  And you can't beat that she went to culinary school, became a chef, and wants to come over and show me some wicked skills in the kitchen on her next visit.  Lucky us!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And yes, finally, after three days of staring at the jolly green giant...we trimmed our tree.  One of us bouncing or nursing Noodle, the other dancing with the branches.

 

 

 

Nora's first glimpse of her ornament (thanks, Mom!).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Admiring the tree with her dad.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The final verdict...fuzzy, so you'll just have to trust that it's gorgeous...and with LED lights that use 88% less energy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some of our favorites --- Nora's first (from my mom), my beloved "girl on chair" from 1976, and Daniel's guitar (when he started taking lessons) from 2008.

 

**Friendly hint - make sure to write the year on the back of ornaments with any sort of sentimental value.  This makes it so much easier to tell the "back when I was ____."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Before"

Today was filled with "befores." 

Before my cousin and I made mocha cheesecake bars, we faced a mountain of cream cheese, sweetened condensed milk, and cocoa powder.  We laughed about the 15+ years that we've been baking sweets for the family cookie exchange.  Hundreds of cookies swapped and hips widened over time.  We are the "wild cards" each year - always baking a mysterious new cookie or bar.  This year's is just so-so. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the glossy page of the magazine they looked spectacular...and they do "look" good...but in the end, not the sugary wonders of my dreams.  We'll see what everyone else says.  Daniel says they're okay but too mushy on top.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But tomorrow our shiny boxes of velvet treats will travel the asphalt labyrinth to Torrance and be exchanged for some of my all-time favorite holiday edibles.  My aunt's coconut & cherry cookies and my mom's seven-layer bars.

 

It was also finally the night to pick out our Christmas tree.  I was beside myself.  Nuglett blowing bubbles, Todd's red and white tent soaring above us, fingering Noble, Grand, and Douglas firs. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Burly men in red vests, with half-smoked cigarettes tucked behind their ears, helping to saw, straighten, and tie the massive tree to our car's roof.  As an adult, I have never had such a large tree. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have also never had to sing "Frosty the Snowman" at the top of my lungs to keep my daughter from screaming her head off on a warm 73 degree night.  **video of "Frosty" singing**

 

 

Before we string lights and hang ornaments, we have the evergreen giant standing tall and fragrantly in the corner, lapping up warm water.  Max and Sophie frolicking with the low-hanging boughs.  Nora mesmerized by the smell, texture of needles, and jiggling of branches.  It was a beautiful day of befores.  Tomorrow, photos of our tree's "after."

 

 

Oh, Christmas Tree!

'Tis almost time to venture to Todd's for our first Christmas tree with Nora.  I have already smiled so broadly and often today that my mouth hurts.  Daniel foraged in the garage for the plastic tubs of holiday decor this afternoon.  I put Noodle in her bouncer chair next to the action and then proceeded to unwrap each decoration and explain to her where they came from. 

There is the statue of Santa playing with a cocker spaniel, the embroidered "love" pillow, the snowflakes stitched by Grandpa Thurm, and the old wooden blocks that spell out "Merry Christmas."  There are stockings for Daniel, me, Maxwell, and Sophie...and a new snowman stocking for Nuglett.

Interesting that the shiny pickle and jeweled butterfly that I picked up this year at Pier 1, albeit new and mass produced in China, will always be on the Christmas canvas for our daughter.  She will not know a holiday in our home without them.  They will spark memories and stories and warmth.  Jut now, as I was typing, I was struck by the incredible loss that a fire would cause.  Not because I vex often about disasters striking - this is the first time I've imagined one - but both my step-mother and step-sister lost everything in house fires.  Every item except for the clothes on their backs.  Naturally, the safety and health of all the family members was most important...but sometimes things also carry great sentiment.  The ornament of the tiny blond girl with ponytails who sits upon a three-legged chair symbolizes my childhood.  She is buried, as we speak, inside the ornament tub...waiting for her debut upon the tree.  Noodle will know how much she means to me.

Perhaps it is my parents' divorce that infuses even more significance into these items.  My childhood is held in such splendor prior to the divorce.  I can't recall any tension at Christmas.  There were no strained conversations or grumblings about dishwashers or wasps or jobs in December.  My parents wore faces of love and patience for each other during this season.  My brother and I were on our best behavior...no hitting or pinching or gesturing.  My mind is only filled with memories of belly laughs while making snow angels, fingers stained nuclear orange from popcorn that came in sectioned tins, vanilla extract poured on bowls of freshly fallen snow, massive trees strewn with hot milky light bulbs, nights of unbelievable anticipation at what Christmas morning would behold.  Racing towards the stairs to look down upon unwrapped Santa gifts around the tree.  Plastic kitchens, cabbage patch dolls, and lifesavers.  My mind would spin with the delight.  "Little Drummer Boy" pattering in the background, the smell of bacon.

Nora fingered all of the decorations.  She knew I was giddy.  Wild kicks and hand flexing signaled her tandem glee. She smiled brilliantly each time I unfurled a new item of merriment.  Carols played in the background and soon her chair was full of all the items I thought would be the most stimulating in color or texture.

Now that I'm a mom, I look at my favorite holiday differently.  I see Noel through Nora's cocoa-brown eyes.  Which traditions will we continue from our childhoods and which will we create anew? 

So far we we have pretty much agreed upon:

drinking (spiked ) eggnog on the day we trim the tree

clove-stuffed oranges hung with ribbon

mistletoe hung and obeyed

a belief in the magic and story of Santa...including a plate with cookies and milk to be left out (and only crumbs will be discovered in the morning)

hide the pickle game (with silly gift)

stockings and presents opened in the morning

just one present allowed on Christmas Eve (parents' pick...probably boring pajamas)

breakfast after gifts (waffles and eggs)

 

I have yet to convince Daniel to do the following:

wear matching clothes or pajamas for a picture (or ever)

fall in love with the rag angel I purchased in Prague back in '99 (with clear intentions of it becoming my tree topper)

listen to Christmas carols from Thanksgiving through Christmas day without reprieve

eat palacinke for breakfast (Croatian crepes with cottage cheese and cinnamon)

help me with Christmas cards

 

Alas, it is late.  Hours passed since I first started this post.  Noodle was bounced as long as Daniel's back could bounce...only to wake and need more cuddling from Mama.  I am now slightly buzzed on Bailey's, in my pajamas, staring at Christmas spilling out onto the floor.  Nothing in its place.  Daniel whistles from the office - contemplating another degree.  My eyes, partially closing, burn from the screen.  A bit of editing, an attached video of our squeaking girl this morning, and to bed I go.  There are only a few hours of solitary sleep before my body pillow is pushed aside to make room for my adorable nursing friend.  I savor these hours.

Tomorrow we'll wander the straw-covered ground looking for our perfect evergreen.  Crunching on the free mini-peppermint sticks, filling Nora's nose and palms with pine sprigs.  Then we'll string the lights, sip eggnog, and hang the ornaments.  My heart is full.

**Here's Squeaky Mouse this morning.**