My gang arrives today. Nostalgia for Christmases past and simpler times come to mind as I sort through old cards, but I know, Christmases past are best remembered and not relived. I wonder how different my kids remembrances of Christmas will be as they get older and look back.
The beautiful lettering on this card, along with the clothing says “old-fashioned”.
Children cry when meeting a scary department store Santa. What would it be like to see this Father Christmas at the door? Smithsonian Magazine’s website asked people to vote for the scariest Santa from about twenty pictures. There were some doozies.
Quaint language tickles my fancy since I love poetry and doggerel, both :
When Christmas comes to your abode,
May care be laid aside,
That naught but cheer, good will and mirth,
And joy and peace abide.
or:
We wish you a glad, merry Christmas
Surrounded by dear ones and friends;
We wish you a sweet, pleasant pathway,
For New Year, wher’er it wends.
And from 1931 :
We hope you’ll have a drumstick that is eatable,
Potatoes mashed , and gravy of the best,
A slab of mince or pumpkin pie unbeatable,
And-it doesn’t matter much about the rest.
.
Today, I’ll finish any cooking to be done ahead of time, clean out the ashes in the stove, stack in some wood, turn on the music and wait for the best part of Christmas-the family’s arrival.
No comments:
Post a Comment