“I have forgotten much, but still remember
The poinsettia's red, blood-red in warm December. “
Claude McKay (1889-1948), U.S.-Jamaican poet. Flame-Heart (l. 9-10). . . Caroling Dusk; an Anthology of Verse by Negro Poets. Countee Cullen, ed. (1927) Harper & Brothers.
TIME: 10:49 PM
PLACE: M-- Company annual Christmas party
SUBJECT: Poinsettias
StellaDella and I went with my dad to a Christmas party thrown by a contractor that his construction firm works with. Here she is with Santa:
And here she is later, with her cousins, after they had their faces painted. Because, you know, nothing says Christmas like butterflies, skeletons and golden fangs.
Where were my older two children? They didn’t go this year. Instead, they participated in a 5K run in our town. MonkeyBoy finished 171st out of 822 runners with a time of 25:20 and DramaQueen was 603rd with a time of 37:28. This was their first race and I am proud of both of them for their accomplishments. I just might have to take up running and join them next time.
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