13 thoughts on “Santa, Baby…”

  1. Something else new. Click the balloon with the number in it, and you go to the comments. Neat touch. Merry Christmas to all of you. I posted last night in the previous page, but it disappeared. Christmas magic perhaps?

    • I had a glitch with that page; the only way I knew to fix it was scrap the page and start again. Your comment was a casualty, I’m afraid. Nothing personal!

  2. Gen. Chuck Yeager on Twitter: “Christmas childhood: The Great Depression didn’t affect us – we were already poor. For Christmas, we didn’t get lots of presents but Dad always gave each of us an orange-very rare then in WV & we were glad to get it. I ate the rind & all.”

    My Dad grew up on a Middle Tennessee farm during the Depression, one of ten children. Fresh oranges were given to the kids (only) on Christmas morning.

    Breakfast was cheese and crackers, because my grandmother was busy preparing the Christmas lunch. Cheese and crackers on Christmas morning was a tradition my Dad observed until his last Christmas…and one I have carried on, most recently this morning.

    “God bless us, every one!” T. Cratchit

    p.s. If you have Millennials in your family that happen to see this, you may have to explain why my grandfather didn’t just run to Walmart and pick up a few bags of fresh citrus fruit.

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