The Minnesota Farm Woman

Thank you very much to all of my friends who still send Christmas cards. All ten of you. I don’t send them out any more, either. Between email, cell phones, and social media, I keep up with everyone throughout the year. For years, my mother carefully hand made each Christmas card, enclosing the latest family photo and a hand-written letter in each one. That was in her spare time between making a dozen different batches of Christmas cookies and her usual six loaves of bread a week. Although I never made my cards, I used to send a hand-written letter and photo in each one, writing with one hand and stirring my umpteenth batch of cookie dough with the other. Yes, I tend to exaggerate a little bit. I would do the shopping and wrapping and decorating and carol singing and candy making until Christmas became more work than fun, and I came to the realization that I WAS NOT MY MOTHER. That brought me to a screeching halt, and right in the middle of the season of joy, too. Guess what? Christmas still came with only one batch of homemade cookies baked. Presents were still opened, this time out of gift bags and not fancy wrappings. Black Friday was no longer a necessity in my life, either for shopping or for decorating. The season of joy became joyous once again. These days, there’s even less to do, and truthfully, that brings a little bit of sadness along with the joy. Our daughter is hosting the family on Christmas again this year. She is not her mother either, and the day will be wonderful as they make their own traditions. This year, I bought a batch of cookies at a local craft fair, because if cookies don’t make HIM joyous, they at least put him in a better mood. We took an overnight family trip to Duluth’s famous Bentleyville to see the lights and watch our grandson visit with Santa. There is nothing that can make you happier than watching the excitement of a four year old talking to Santa. In fact, HE was so filled with holiday joy that he actually stopped at the mall and told me to take all the time I needed. Really, without meaning to, I think I just wrote a Christmas letter! I will share an embarrasing vintage family photo along with a wish that you will also feel the joy of the season. (By the way, I am the angelic-looking sibling). Merry Christmas from The Minnesota Farm Woman, HIM, Barney the Chihuahua, and sixteen chickens, all named ‘Mama’. Peace on earth.