
Saturday morning, December 5, we awoke to a dusting of snow on our mountain, one day after my wife draped our front door with wreaths and garland. It's the first time either of us can remember having decked the walls in time to capture the "White Christmas" photo for our annual card. Such instincts, such impeccable timing comes with old age, I guess. I wandered the yard at sunrise, playing Ansel Adams. By noon the snow was gone except in roof-valleys and shady parts of the lawn. No matter. It was a blockbuster day for college football. Boys camped out in our basement to watch the
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SEC Championship game, not necessarily rooting for the same team. With Mom in her kerchief and I in my cap (of the baseball variety), we settled in our living room, fireside, to watch with
glee as the Alabama Crimson Tide made reindeer mush of the Florida Gators. You should have heard the "Hallelujah Chorus" we sang to the tune of
Rammer-
Jammer here on our mountain. I love celebrating this Season of Miracles.
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