Go tell it on the mountain

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Oh, weekends in December! There is always so much to do. I wrapped a boatload of presents and went to the “Holiday Sale” at my church. I bought some used books. (I had donated three cartons of books, so I came out on top of that equation.)

The OM and I bought our Christmas tree at the neighborhood Optimists’ lot. We found one right away and bundled it home where it is waiting in the garage to be set up and decorated at a later date.

We also went to see They Shall Not Grow Old (2018), a documentary film about WWI directed by Peter Jackson. My DP wrote about the documentary last year when she saw it. It was an impressive film, no doubt about it, but I have to say, after ten minutes I was thinking, “Why did I want to see this movie?” I stayed for the whole thing, but it was an extremely unpleasant experience. Trench warfare, bad. I get it. There are a lot of good things to say about this movie, but reading about it would have been enough for me. We came home and watched The Commancheros (1961) which made me feel much better.

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I went to the 8:00 service at church again and came home and finished A Serpent’s Tooth by Craig Johnson, a Longmire novel I had been re-reading. Speaking of books, I also read Terms of Endearment by Larry McMurtry last week. I admire McMurtry a lot, but this book, written in 1975, did not really grab me. I think it was supposed to be funny and I was not really amused. I read half and then skipped to the end. The movie you will recall, was a huge hit back in 1983. It won five Oscars: Best Picture, Best Actress, Best Supporting Actor, Best Director, Best Adapted Screenplay. You can’t say that about many movies! I had never actually seen it, so we watched it on Amazon Prime this weekend.

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Shirley MacLaine was very good, but I was not that impressed with Debra Winger, who I was not surprised to read was high on cocaine the whole time. It is a “funny” movie that turns tragic and then everyone cries and feels better. Standard stuff. Movies like this were a dime a dozen in the 1930s and 40s.

By the time the wee babes came over for dinner on Sunday night the OM and I were kind of exhausted. They ran circles around us as usual. Lottie wanted to have a dance party and was disappointed that daughter #1 was not there to spin the records. C’est la vie, Lottie; this indeed is life.

Last night we went to the Lutheran Church where the wee babes go to pre-school to see their Christmas program, which consisted of the 2-5 year old munchkins singing a few Christmas carols. It was chaos, but adorable. There was no way to take any pictures, because all we could really see was other grandparents holding up cell phones to record the occasion. This would have bothered me back in the day with my own children, but now I just go with the flow.IMG_4749.JPG

Here is a picture the boy took of them practicing last week. (They were a lot more dressed up last night.) Those 2-year olds in the front really have no clue! (Especially that wee laddie who is not even facing in the right direction.)

Go tell who on what mountain? Hang in there–only two weeks ’til Christmas!