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| Angèle Malclès 1948 |
I remember lying under the Chrismas tree, squeezed under fragrant branches with my brother, singing carols and gazing into the colorful ornaments from below. Ah, but I embellish; our tree was artificial in those days! The magic was there nonetheless. Our distorted faces were mostly noses in the shiny baubles - which only fueled our giggling in the giddy excitement of the season. I found a little of that shimmering joy in this very pretty Christmas ball (no nose though) and with it, I wish you a
very merry Christmas day.
I'm in the car now. The day will soon be ended and the landscape rolls by as the car moves along toward the heather and broom of Brittany beneath a beautiful peach colored sky. I will be back soon - never meant to be away so long, but once the the blogging habit is disturbed, it's hard to get back with a firm foothold. Until then I'll be listening to Bing and seeing the family for some more feasting and toasting, reminding my husband to chop some mistletoe for the new year and generally, prolonging this lovely interlude as long as possible.
