Busche de Noel

Busche de Noel, originally uploaded by Theresa111.

It’s that time of the year again. The time for reflection and giving and happiness. It is the most special time of the year for me. The wonder of the winter land and sleigh bells and Rudolph with his bight red nose. It’s the time of year I search for my little booklet with Santa Claus on the front cover.

I read “Twas The Night Before Christmas,” to my kitties and believe me, they sit all around me and listen intently. They seem to understand that when we carry in a tree from outside, that we are going to put it in a holder, fill it with water and detangle strings of tiny lights. The become excited trying to choose the colored decorative balls to hang and sniff appreciatively at the boughs as they dip from the weight of their adornments.

We only apply the shiny silver tinsel to the very top of the tree, ever since the late Bennington, our marmalade cat, was found gagging on one. As I gently pulled, and pulled, and pulled, the mottled wet tinsel was removed from his mouth. About nine inches of the stringy stuff! So because we saved him from what would otherwise have been a very expensive tummy surgery, we no longer hang it anywhere near where they can reach it. By the way, Baby Bennington lived to the ripe old age of sixteen.

Baby Bennington and the late Ripley (14 years) both loved wearing thick red velvet ribbons round their necks. For at the end of each was a shiny golden bell, which tinkled such wonderful sounds. I believe both stood straighter and puffed out their chests, like they were the ambassadors of the season. You could hear them coming before they came into view. Those two just loved Christmas.

So, with yesterdays snow and our preparations of unearthing tree ornaments and that little book, we will prepare our gift list and make room for the green tree that is such a welcome heralding of my favorite time of the year.


About Theresa H Hall

As a professional vocalist. licensed broadcaster, artist, published poet, lyricist, writer, essayist, critic, animal lover and budding pastr View all posts by Theresa H Hall

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