Some eighteenth century silver -- and no, not my dining room table.
Some years I have gone all out formal, with candelabra and chargers, brocade and linen, ruby glass and glitter - but not this one. The pack are dispersed and could not all congregate.
So we just shoved the piles of papers and laundry to one end of the table and ate at the other.
Still, I am so stuffed with bird and wine, with Belgian chocolate and exotic cheeses, that I should be on a plaque on the wall.
And, ignoring my Luddite timidity, my daughter gave me a digital camera. I fondle it, fearfully. I hope it has directions for dummies. She assured me it did, but I am dubious.
There are those, like Scott, Gabrielle, and Frank, who capture scenes of sheer magic, pictures that linger in the memory, many-worded photographs that send my imagination soaring. I do not have their skill, but it will be fun to try.
The world revolves from night to day.
Waes hael to the New Year!