NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRRING

The parties were over.  The stockings were hung by the chimney with care and we were headed to bed on a cold winter's night.

                                                  (Enjoy feeding our Christmas fish here for your entertainment!)---->

                                                                                                                                                                   

  

The crisp Virginia air only added to our Christmas anticipation.  Maybe we'd actually get a white one this year.  This was the furthest north we'd lived so to us five Hendersons it was as Currier and Ives as it gets.

From fall season. . .
. . .and into winter!                                                                          

We even strung popcorn into a 20 foot garland to deck the tree.  The living room looked like an old-fashioned Christmas card.  Of course these were my Williamsburg blue, dotted-swiss and geese years.  What WAS I thinking?



Nestled in bed, I awoke to a bitter breeze through our upstairs bedroom.  The house was dark and quiet as I tiptoed downstairs to check the thermostat.  I hope we don't have heat pump problems.  Every step took me and the temperature lower until I saw the front door standing wide open.  The cold wind whipped at my gown as I gathered it in my hands.

Next day view after the storm blew in

Staircase another day with Katy

As I rounded the landing, I reached to close the front door.  Suddenly I spotted two red eyes peering at me beside the Christmas tree!  I froze.  So did he.  Staredown in blackness!  Finally he blinked and the huge body came rushing towards me.  I screamed and felt him brush right past me out the still gaping door!  My heart raced as I realized it was our golden retriever, Honey.   Apparently we failed to secure the door and the storm blew it open.  The dog took it as an invitation.

I shut and locked the door, checking it three times, then turned on the living room light.   The Christmas tree looked strange.  What's missing?  HALF OUR POPCORN GARLAND!  That stupid dog had eaten his way around the tree as high as his mangy head could reach, enjoying a midnight snack.  Hours of family labor now digested in his round belly!  Retrievers retrieve!                                                                                                                                                                    
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

Honey, feeling slightly guilty. . .

. . .but quite satisfied

                                                                                                                    

The wind.  My scream.  The door closing.  The lights on.  My brave husband, my hero, slept through it all.  Who says a dog is man's best friend?!

  

At least it wasn't the kids who did it. . .                           












. . .or worse yet, if we'd had a cat!






When you try out new Christmas recipes this year, let me advise you. . . HONEY and POPCORN are not a good mix!


Like my Doug, sleep in heavenly peace,
Kathy