fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh and twelfth gifts of the season

5.  Discovering that dinner at my nephew’s would not be a turducken as he’d threatened, but free-standing birds along with perogies, couscous and snuffing [stuffing to the rest of the world]. Preceded and followed by impromptu salsa dancing.

6.  The way Elizabeth Simcoe led me to the origins of the word spinster. 
A noble word!

7.  Learning that unicorns are real. [Seems they’ve been heard by certain people of short stature who know about these things. They sound like reindeer.]

8.  Preparing the annual package of food and clothing that’s then left on a dark and deserted and slightly rundown street with a note reading Merry xmas to whoever finds this. The two best parts: picking out the stuff that goes into it, and wondering about the moment it’s found.

9.  The doves. They’d been gone from the backyard for several seasons but earlier this year, after our little tortoiseshell girl died, they returned the very next day and have stayed. And in the most wonderful way this doesn’t feel insignificant.

10. Lunch with a friend. Fries, calamari, kale salad, a glass of chilled Canadian riesling… but mostly the part that had nothing to do with food or wine.

11. Home. Breath. Arms. Legs. The sound of a furball purring. You know, the good stuff.

12. A walk to buy lemons and seeing that the hockey net from last year has returned. I don’t know who sets this up but, like a weird Inukshuk, it tells me whoever it is, is still about. I’m glad they’re well.

The first four gifts are here.

10 thoughts on “fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh and twelfth gifts of the season

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