And Are There Angels Hovering Overhead? Hark!

Bonnie and I enjoyed our walk today. Snow fell, and winds blew. She was pretty beat by the time we got home:

She looks pretty satisfied, don't you think?

We put up our tree today. As we do every year, we smiled at the cheerful declaration on the box: "Assembles in minutes!" This year, it assembled in about three hours worth of minutes:

We still need to add the ornaments, but the lights brighten the room, and make it feel like Christmas - that, and the snow. We should have a Christmas poem, too:

December
by Gary Johnson

A little girl is singing for the faithful to come ye
Joyful and triumphant, a song she loves,
And also the partridge in a pear tree
And the golden rings and the turtle doves.
In the dark streets, red lights and green and blue
Where the faithful live, some joyful, some troubled,
Enduring the cold and also the flu,
Taking the garbage out and keeping the sidewalk shoveled.
Not much triumph going on here—and yet
There is much we do not understand.
And my hopes and fears are met
In this small singer holding onto my hand.
           Onward we go, faithfully, into the dark
           And are there angels hovering overhead? Hark.