My older sister who frequents library sales sent me this gem. I admit, Davy Crockett and the Lone Ranger still give me a thrill when I watch the old movies. And I felt a twinge of mourning when Clayton Moore passed away a couple years ago. The memoirs (yes I dropped "Birth of the Modern" for a few days to breeze through this) of the man behind the mask begin as a typical Hollywood memoir, but do turn as he becomes the Lone Ranger. He did relish being identified solely with this upright hero. Not quite finished, but will be before the week is out. Okay, not a classic, but fun just the same.
And then there is the harmonica. I didn't want to be the only one in the family who can't play or sing anything. So it is the perfect gift, requiring almost no talent, but some little work. I have almost mastered "Swanee River". But I can tell already I will have to memorize every tune-I will never be able to just 'pick up' a tune I hear.
And of course I also got the standard "father" presents: hankerchiefs, slippers, flashlight, and ho! ho! ho! a 15-pack of Guinness draught in the can. (My daughter thinks "Guinness is good for you" should be the name of my blog-somethig to think about).
However, what I most wanted for Christmas (and what I told my children I most wanted) has been ever present in the house these few days: peace and charity. God has blessed us greatly. I hope I have the courage to accept His blessings and His will for us in the coming year.
From Bethany, the small holding in Bethune... Oremus pro invicem!