Two Turtle Doves

Ha, ha! I got around Blogspot's problem. Uploading an image wouldn't work in "Compose" (WYSIWYG) mode, but it would work when I click over to "Edit HTML."

So, anyway, today is the second day of Christmas, also known as the Feast of St. Stephen, the day on which Good King Wenceslas looked out, when the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even.

Today I finished wrapping presents. Here is a picture of my kitchen table while wrapping was in progress.

This afternoon was our larger family gathering, comprised of my parents and me, my sister-in-law, my niece and her husband, and their four children. We opened presents and then had dinner together. Like the "Sleigh Ride" song I quoted a few weeks ago says, "There's a feeling nothing in this world can buy, when they pass around the coffee and the pumpkin pie. . . . These wonderful things are the things we remember all through our lives." Except tonight it was pecan pie, which my sister-in-law made because she knows I love it. What could be tastier than pie made by someone you love who loves you and made it for that reason?

Meanwhile, here are the words to "Good King Wenceslas" (1853; John Mason Neale):

Good King Wenceslas looked out, on the Feast of Stephen,
When the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even.

Brightly shone the moon that night, tho' the frost was cruel,
When a poor man came in sight, gath'ring winter fuel.

"Hither, page, and stand by me, if thou know'st it, telling:
Yonder peasant, who is he? Where and what his dwelling?"

"Sire, he lives a good league hence, underneath the mountain,
Right against the forest fence, by Saint Agnes' fountain."

"Bring me flesh, and bring me wine, bring me pine logs hither.
Thou and I will see him dine, when we bear them thither."

Page and monarch, forth they went, forth they went together,
Through the rude wind's wild lament and the bitter weather.

"Sire, the night is darker now, and the wind blows stronger.
Fails my heart, I know not how; I can go no longer."

"Mark my footsteps, good my page. Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shalt find the winter's rage freeze thy blood less coldly."

In his master's steps he trod, where the snow lay dinted;
Heat was in the very sod which the saint had printed.

Therefore, Christian men, be sure, wealth or rank possessing,
Ye who now will bless the poor, shall yourselves find blessing.