My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Welcoming Santa
According to the paper, now that it is November Santa will be starting his arrivals, coming to some towns and shopping malls by helicopter and to others in a fire engine. He is to parachute into some places and to others he will be driven. A bit less dramatic, he seemed more welcome when arriving only once and then in his sleigh.
Labels:
appreciation,
nostalgia,
Santa,
tradition
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