“Wanna sound smart and witty? Then quote smart and witty people.” ― Oliver Markus Malloy

Good morning and welcome to Thursday, December 5, 2019. I appreciate those who have prayed on behalf of our son, Jimmy, as he continues to be treated for pneumonia in the hospital. He is better and we hope he will be discharged soon. We love working with many of the repeat clients we serve. The above photo is Santa with some of the leading volunteers who belong to the Jr. League of the Woodlands. These are the people who help to coordinate the annual holiday market at the Marriott hotel here in our area. This is an organization that raises money to support many community causes and we have been privileged to work with them for the past nine years. They are great to work with and, yes, they do treat Santa and Mrs. Claus like royalty. As an added bonus, I've taken photos with many of their children over the years. It's a remarkable feeling to watch so many kids grow and change each year. We consider the opportunity to work with people like this a huge blessing. Amen.

I am more or less throwing this together this morning. As for the title of today's episode, I can't say it makes any contextual sense, but, I do try to find a pithy saying or quote to go along with my ramblings each day. I've been seeing some postings from folks who have talked about their Christmas celebrations growing up. Many relate how they remember very few of the presents they received, but, they do have vivid recollections of the feelings from their past. Family. That tends to dominate the memory flow. Remembering the excitement and even the smells at Christmastime does register with people. That set me to trying to remember any of the gifts I received growing up. I've written about the Sergeant Preston, Canadian Mountie of the Yukon pistol and holster set I received one year. I have that one stuck in my mind because my older brother and one of our cousins talked me into putting a firecracker into the barrel of the pistol. They said it would be fun. They said it wouldn't hurt it. It did hurt it. It blew one side of the barrel completely off. I was devastated. It's hard to be a Mountie with the barrel of your pistol taped together. The other day I saw where that cousin celebrated his 78th birthday. I worked with him and his dad in Florida a couple of summers when I was in high school. I had many experiences with him during my time with them. However, what do you think I thought of when I saw his birthday notice? Yep. It came immediately: He was the instigator in maiming my Sergeant Preston pistol so many years ago.

If you have read my blogs for any period of time, you are aware that I do love reminiscing about my growing up days. That includes looking back at Christmas. Those memories from my past actually informed our celebration with our own family. I've heard from several of those who were here for our most recent Thanksgiving Day celebration. The consensus is clear. The food couldn't have been more delicious, however, the thing that impressed us all more than anything else was quite simple. We were all able to be together. Together. That's what I remember from my growing up days. We celebrated the holidays in a special way. Together. I can remember some of the gifts I gave to different ones from the past. I can remember the time and effort in finding what I was looking for. I most treasure the look on their faces and the response they had to receiving the gift. Some call these recollections foolish warm and fuzzy figments of our imagination. Some of it might qualify for that designation, but, I'll continue to enjoy my travels back in time as long as the mental time travel function still works. Okay. Before they show up with the restraints and haul me off somewhere, let me pause to commend to us all the day before us and may God add His blessings to it. Amen. ....More later.