December 6th, 2017
It’s that time of year again, the writing of the annual Christmas card. Although I was once diligent about sending out cards in a timely fashion, the last decade has been a dismal failure. Each year, the cards that actually get into the mail have dwindled to immediate family only. I think there was one year that even they didn’t receive cards from us. Yesterday, the draw holding the Christmas card supplies revealed my sins from last year. My husband is the one who writes in the card – each one individually composed. I am responsible for writing a letter filled with news of our lives. I hung my head in shame when I pulled out several completed cards with photos inside and addressed envelopes. They were still waiting for the newsletter that was never done. Perhaps, I suggested to him in his shock, we could just send these ones now. A perfect solution until my husband brought the date written at the top of a card to my attention. It’s hard to change the six in 2016 to a seven. Rats, a great idea wasted. My response was for him to discontinue with that practice from now on. So, I am hoping to make a fresh start going into this holiday season.
In my imagination, Bailey would be transformed into an elf. Like Santa’s elves, she would be willing and capable of tackling our Christmas cards. Her tongue would be perfect for licking the envelopes after all. A simple paw print would be sufficient for a signature. Who knows what our sweetness would say? Jolly Old Saint Nick is lucky to have elves to do his bidding while he gets to indulge on cookies and milk. Sadly, our Newfie elf is limited in her card writing repertoire skills. I am left with the task. But, it was nice to dream.