{"id":4557,"date":"2012-12-01T21:07:08","date_gmt":"2012-12-02T02:07:08","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.silkentent.com\/Trees\/?p=4557"},"modified":"2012-12-01T21:28:35","modified_gmt":"2012-12-02T02:28:35","slug":"strike-the-harp-and-join-the-chorus-again","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.silkentent.com\/Trees\/?p=4557","title":{"rendered":"Strike the Harp and Join the Chorus, Again"},"content":{"rendered":"

December 1, 2012
\nSaturday<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!<\/em>
\n\u00e2\u20ac\u201d Lewis Carroll, (Charles Lutwidge Dodson), 1832-1898
\nEnglish author and Anglican deacon
\nfrom “Jabberwocky,” 1872<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"I’ve used that particular line from Lewis Carroll to introduce a blog post before, and I’ve used the title before as well. I’ve been blogging for almost fourteen years, so repeating myself is probably unavoidable. Today opens Holidailies, that community blogfest that I have participated in since 2004, the second or maybe third year of its existence. My choice of the line from “Jabberwocky,” something I reserve for moments of special delight, signifies how happy I am to be back. Back back, as a young friend sometimes says.<\/span><\/p>\n

Last year I posted only twice in the thirty or so days of the festival, although the Holidailies record counts ten. I think I know where the other eight are, in a side project that I didn’t really follow through with. Last Christmas was, well, odd \u00e2\u20ac\u201d subdued, melancholy, not fully entered into. I had the blahs, a somewhat mild depression, but a depression nevertheless. For decoration I bought a Norfolk Island pine and a sign that said “This is as merry as we get.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Things are different this year. I feel alive, eager to move into this season of reflection and remembering, of hope and good will. So let me reintroduce myself to my general readers, and to the Holidailies community as well.<\/span><\/p>\n

I’m Margaret DeAngelis, suburban wife and mother (although the nest is empty), fiction writer and blogger. I turned 65 last March. I live just outside the capital city of Pennsylvania. My husband, Ron,\u00c2\u00a0is recovering from what started out as routine cataract removal but which morphed into a near-catastrophe involving a rare condition known as Fuchs’ Dystrophy. The saga is recounted here<\/a>. I am happy to say that Ron sees (literally) improvement every day, and we are even beginning to discuss scheduling the surgery needed to heal the second eye.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>Our daughter, Lynn, is 27 years old. She is pictured at left with her fianc\u00c3\u00a9, Matt April. They became engaged a year ago and are getting married in June. (Hence the need to get this eye business taken care of.) Everything she has ever done has brought us joy, and her engagement and forthcoming marriage is no exception. She lives about an hour and a half from us, and we don’t see her nearly enough.<\/span><\/p>\n

It’s nearly 9:00 on a Saturday night, the first day of Holidailies, the night before the First Sunday of Advent. I did everything I wanted to do today, including bringing up the cr\u00c3\u00a8che from the basement. It’s still in its storage box, but it will get installed on the hall table tomorrow. And who knows, maybe the tree will follow.<\/span><\/p>\n

Love it? Hate it? Just want to say hi? margaretdeangelis [at] gmail [dot] com (replace the bracketed parts with @ and a period)<\/em> OR <\/strong>Follow me on Twitter: http:\/\/twitter.com\/silkentent<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n


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