No, I am not writing about the parade on TV, of which I only caught a few glimpses before dinner at my uncle and aunt's home. Frankly, what I saw of that held no appeal to me, but the time with family was special.
Our parade tradition falls on the Friday evening after Thanksgiving day and is the start of our Christmas season. Sometimes a frigid outing, this year's horse-drawn parade of lights was a comfortable 32 degrees Fahrenheit.
Elsa and I skipped browsing the fun shops downtown. (Mingling with a crowd amid the dryer-sheet-infused atmosphere of a town was tough enough exposure.) But we arrived through a foggy night in time to meet the rest of our family across from the bank for the parade.
The horses were beautiful, the live nativity my favorite float, and the many calls of "Merry Christmas" encouraging.
After watching the parade clip-clop past twice, Maren and her family (including Jason's parents) came home with us for our traditional, little party. Out comes Grandma's elaborate cross stitch table-cloth for the coffee table loaded with hot chocolate and treats between the couches -- Norwegian-style. (Sorry, no pictures this year.)
Since Mom and Dad were heading out first thing next morning to the funeral of a fellow orchid-loving friend, Jason (another orchid-enthusiast) had picked up a plant for them to bring along.
Meanwhile, he couldn't resist bringing a couple more for us to enjoy.
Each of my orchid plants has a name, so these are now dubbed Thanksgiving (green flowers) and Parade (pink). Such amazing specimens of God's creation!
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