Some years ago on Christmas Eve, while we were snug in bed, I thought I heard a noise outside, so strange, sleep quickly fled. I nudged Hubby and he said, “Yes I heard it to.
It’s been unseasonably warm so far this month. I’m okay with that. My Dad always said that December was the best time for a drought on the northern plains. A brown Christmas would be fine.
When did December sneak in on us? I feel like there must have been some months missing out of my calendar this year. Fall went particularly fast for some reason. My late Uncle.