The Squire and I were to visit my nephew for Christmas, but he sent us an email on the 22nd to say the whole “fan damily” had come down with Covid. His wife had caught it and given it to her parents and to him. They have three children 12 and under, so there’s no way the kids are going to avoid it.
I went to 5:00 Christmas Eve service at St. Alban’s, a 1928 church not too far from us, and then zipped home to go to the 7:00 service with The Squire at Resurrection. I opted not to take Communion with him, because even as rowdy as I tend to be I don’t need to be “washed through and through” twice in two hours!
Theoretically, we don’t exchange gifts anymore, but we generally find some little thing we think the other person needs. A while back, The Squire had been complaining that the steering wheel was cold. When I asked him why he didn’t wear his gloves, he replied they are too bulky and awkward. And they are. I went online looking for “men’s lightweight dress gloves” and found a pair of “Stewart of Scotland” gloves – 100% wool, fleece lined, and real leather palms, for less than half price. Still a fair amount, but so very much worth it. He was delighted! When we were at my nephew’s home for Thanksgiving his wife had a wood and plastic gizmo for slicing bread, which I thought was the greatest things since, well, since sliced bread. The Squire went online and found one for me. Actually, I think mine is even nicer, because it is all bamboo, and it folds for storage.
We went to an Indian restaurant for Christmas dinner. We both enjoy Indian cuisine and because they are not Christian, we don’t feel guilty about ruining their holiday. Does that make sense?
Spent yesterday napping and working a jigsaw puzzle and went off to church this morning. Bishop Sutton is following CDC guidelines and closing down the churches for 14 days, which means we won’t have services at Resurrection next week, but there’s always St. Alban’s.
Mind you – these fourteen days may grow into something much longer, but we shall see what happens.
thisendoftheswamp 
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