Christmas this year turned out to be surprisingly enjoyable. So many past Christmases have been too frantic and too exhausting, and this year it just pleasantly and simply unfolded. Jimmy and I agreed that it was one of the best since our children were small.
My brother Mac and sister-in-law Susan, whose generosity and boundless energy never fail to amaze, had fifteen of us for Christmas day dinner. They had included a longtime family friend, Leona Strickland Hudson, who had grown up with our parents, and her being there added a lot to the day. At the other end of the age spectrum, almost-four-year-old Howell regaled us with a flawless rendition of "The Twelve Days of Christmas", and baby sister Berkley sang us her unique but adorable toddler version of "Jingle Bells".
Then there were our grandchildren, William and Jake: they were completely and utterly delightful. Jimmy and I surprised them Christmas eve with a swing set in our backyard; they had a ball, and we had even more fun watching them. After the grown-ups had gone inside, William and I went down the slide umpteen zillion times, and when he showed me how he could do a somersault, I showed him how I could do a cartwheel. Needless to say, I could hardly get out of bed the next morning, and have been eating Advil like candy.
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