Like everyone else, I am racing around in preparation for Christmas. Just this afternoon, I strolled into the Belfast Post Office to buy a bunch of Christmas angel stamps – the one with the angel playing the lyre (or some stringed instrument of yesteryear). In my first case of bah humbug, the post office had not even one! So, rather than buy some of those hideous Liberty Bells all awash in brown, I purchased a packet of Bart Simpson. How is that for Christmas?
Yet my spirits were restored as I dined with the Belfast Garden Club at the annual Christmas luncheon held at the town favorite, Darby’s Restaurant. We spoke of gingerbread cookies, the Nutcracker ballet and our web master who is having her first baby on Christmas Day. Believe me, I was happy to forego our normal monthly meeting with talk of grass grubs, rose aphids and other enriching topics.
Later I drove past the wonderful Fishers’ Christmas Tree Farm on Route 3, three miles west of Belfast, where you can cut your own. Alas, this year no tree for us and no big family reunion – the innkeepers are on our way to Egypt. On Christmas Day, we shall be barging down the Nile in the land of Nefertiti. My friends are taking bets as to whether I shall hitch a ride on a camel. Very tempting, but then, I think not.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to One and All
The White House Inn