We had to leave Covington so fast that we lost a few things in the move. One item that was especially difficult to accept was the baby mobile of glass ducks that hung over my crib (and later my bed) as a child. I'd kept it 30 years through college, first apartments, many moves, and hung it in a corner of my studio in Covington. When everything was unpacked in RI and it was nowhere to be found, we came to believe we'd accidentally left it hanging there the morning we moved out. I even debated contacting the new owners, but ultimately decided against it. What would I say? "Hope you're enjoying our old home, did you happen to notice a tiny of flock of ducks downstairs? I'm 33 years old and I'd really like them back. You can keep our house, I just really need my ducks." No... So, I just felt a bit heartsick and left it at that. We'd lost a lot anyway, what's a few ducks I told myself.
Last night we left out Luke's letter for Santa, our guess at what he might like, adorned in his scribbles. The whole night was sort of a disaster. Our oven broke in the middle of making dinner, scorching our food and destroying a banana bread. Luke has been sick with a fever all week, and last night a rash broke out signaling to us that he has Roseola. A quick call to his pediatrician eased our fears. The rash thankfully means the worst has past and Luke is recovering. We worried since I'm pregnant, but our doctor assured us it was fine as I'm in my 2nd trimester. Still, a scary moment for first time parents. The night nearly felt like a bust, but as midnight neared we rallied and got ready to "help" Santa's magic a little. Milk was drank. Cookies were eaten. An alibi was provided to the jolly old elf; evidence would prove he had been in our kitchen.
Hurrying to complete his visit to our home, I looked for a bit of red ribbon to spruce up the toy chicken that was being left behind (as Luke is crazy about birds). I dragged out a big container of embroidery supplies and dug through sewing kits and hoops and extra bits of fabric. Opened up my ribbon box in the name of Santa...
...And there was my baby mobile, a pile of trusty glass ducks looking back up at me.
Santa's where we look for him. And sometimes even when we're not looking, he finds us anyway. As I pulled out a humble gathering of old childhood friends, I couldn't help but feel some of that Christmas magic, and be awfully grateful Santa needed a ribbon last night.
|I know it doesn't look like much, but I think often times our own personal|
treasuries don't look like much to the rest of the world. That's what makes them just for us.
|Luke's letter and Santa's response.|
|Luke tending to his chicken, despite still feeling a little poorly.|
|Elvis and Puck getting in a nap. I don't know that it would count as|
a post if I didn't include a cuddle picture of Puck and Elvis sleeping....
|Lupin making himself right at home, leaning his fuzzy little elbows on|
the windowsill to watch the birds.
|We heard a commotion in the living room and Ryan went to investigate. He returned a moment later,|
holding a photo of him on our wedding day and said, "Elvis took this down off the wall."
(Elvis still sometimes has trouble accepting the Man).