Waiting for Christmas

It once was July, and I was in Rhode Island. Now my camera's still in the shop, and I'm lucky to have a store of summer pictures, to remember Little Rhody by. Because I won't be going up there for the holidays, not until March. I get to stay home, trim a tree, and be cozy, once I've mailed off my New England presents. There's nothing like a vacation at home. We had snow on Sunday, though most melted in. But all the children at Luther's birthday party were out sledding on the wet, snow-sprinkled hills, and playing in the magic garden until dark.