Hello, world! This blog began on September 28, 2007, and so far nobody has come looking for me with tar and feathers.
On my honor, I will do my best not to bore you. All comments are welcome
as long as your discourse is civil and your language is not blue.
Happy reading, and come back often!
And whether my cup is half full or half empty, fill my cup, Lord.
Copyright 2007 - 2025 by Robert H.Brague
Showing posts with label Wolcum yol. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wolcum yol. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
Hodie Christus natus est
Well, not exactly hodie, more like the day after tomorrow, but I may not post again before Christmas.
As we used to say in Old English, wolcum yol.
Shooting Parrots expressed his admiration of the nativity tableau in my last post. Ian, this close-up is for you. Yorkshire Pudding expressed his dislike that my photographs overlap into my sidebar. As my mother used to say, like it or lump it.
I thought I skipped the Bah, Humbug phase this year, but apparently it is trying to rear its ugly head.
I won't let it.
I will listen to Benjamin Britten's Ceremony of Carols.
I will listen to the Christmas portion of Handel's Messiah.
I will listen to the King Singers sing "Lo, How A Rose E'er Blooming".
I will listen to the good folk in Gloucester Cathedral sing Christina Rossetti's words, "In the Bleak Midwinter".
I will listen to Karen Carpenter sing "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas".
I recommend that you do the same. If those won't get you out of any residual pre-holiday funk, nothing will.
I have used U.K.-style end punctuation throughout this post (the periods outside the double commas).
I repeat, Wolcum yol.
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