The soup has been eaten*, The Other Wiseman has been read (the little boys have giggled at the word "naked"), the Christmas jammies have been donned, the kids have been put to bed, the stockings have been filled and hung (or in this case laid on along the wall... there are 13 of us this year! I'd like to see the mantle big enough to accommodate thirteen stockings!), and this tired mum is ready for bed.
But before I go, I'd like to wish you all a very, VERY Merry Christmas. I am so thankful for all that I have. My awesome husband, my amazing children, my loving family, my wonderful friends, and my adoring fans loyal blog readers. In french the word for "thankful" is "reconnaisance". I love the word. It seems to imply an inherent consciousness of that which we have to be thankful. It seems more deliberate. A conscious thankfulness. Nice, eh?
And so, to all a Merry Christmas and, to all, a good night.
*My dad used to make corn chowder every Christmas Eve. For as long as I can remember. I'm not even sure how the tradition began, but it is unique to our family. It's not cultural or religious or ethic. It's just us. My dad was not here to make it this year, so my mom took up the torch. It was not quite like his, but it was still good.
Full of love (but not quite enough corn).
(Love you mom.)