I’m working this weekend, very long days. When I got up this morning my head was swimming. Of course I had completely forgotten but it quickly came back- I felt as tired as I had been after 22 hours of labor. Tired legs can be a trigger the way certain smells take you to another time and place.

The sun is just coming up now. Wish me luck. I’m off to find ten missing lambs…

and there will be coffee.

. . . . .

The coffee really did help. I had four cups and the day went well.

In the afternoon I saw Santa. He did have a real beard though it wasn’t full and the red velvet suit hung down and gathered in folds inside his black belt.  He didn’t look well. His face was a bit grey. As he slowly made his way from the dressing room toward the line of waiting kids, a woman nearby joked that he needed to eat more after his shift was over. He leaned in close to her so the whole world wouldn’t hear (sorry Santa) and said very matter-of-factly, all the food wasn’t going to make a difference because he was dying of cancer. Isn’t that awful? The only thing I could think to do was hand him a free package of bacon. He did seem very pleased; that pleased me, and the inevitable joke followed. This year I made the Good List!