Boxing Day?

"Gosh Santa, how did you know that what I really wanted was a box for Christmas?"

Christmas morning...eggnog/cranberry/pecan waffles, breakfast in pajamas and eating around the fireplace.
Quite cozy!

Relaxing fun.

The wrapped gifts look so festive under the tree.
(Confession:  Wrapping the gifts is a most dreaded part of my holiday preparation.  The geometry of wrapping a box eludes me, and just defaulting to a gift bag makes me feel guilty, like I didn't try hard enough.
The wrapped gifts and gift bags ultimately do look nice under the tree though...)

And if one needs extra outside fun one might wish to swing high enough in the sky to perhaps catch a glimpse of the reindeer on their way back to the North Pole.

(Or give grandparents heart attacks at the swing's trajectory carrying their precious only grandchild...)

Christmas afternoon, in a casual nod to the Shepherd tale:

Lo, we were watching our (front yard) flocks by midday.
(And am I the only one who wonders why Shepherd Pie is not routinely served on Christmas night? Seems logical to me.)

Flocks of quail to be exact.
First Day of Christmas... partridge...quail...close enough.
They came racing out from beneath our blue spruce tree and apparently were in conversation about where they wanted to go partying next.

While the lighted deer was heading west, the quail headed east, with no star whatsoever to guide them

We sang a chorus of "We Three Kings" to support them as they went.

They turned and looked straight at us.
Crazy people...

They really move fast, using almost a goose step marching style.

 The flock (OK, covey) regrouped beneath the neighbor's tree to soak up some  winter sunshine before traveling on.
I retired to the deck sofa and likewise enjoyed sun on my face as the temperature rose and melted much of the snow away.

Christmas night we dined at our son's house with his wife's parents who had flown in for the holidays.
We drove home by way of Christmas Story Lane, where each house has a lighted Scripture portion displayed out front.
It is sort of a tradition for us now.

Today, this morning, the quail were back out in our front yard.
This time they marched up our walk way like they were planning on coming right up to the front door and start caroling.
I couldn't get to my camera fast enough to photograph that procession before they chickened out and went under the tree again.
(We are planning on putting chicken feed out there for them.  Why not encourage them to hang around? Maybe some turtledoves will drop by too.)

And so the 12 Days of Christmas begins.
No presents to wrap, no decorating to do, no letters to write.
A neighbor has dropped by with a gift...
Time to go see lights and sights and visit friends both near and far.
And who knows, maybe some fishing might be worked in too.

After a bit of good old fashioned "Hard Working American" work day work of course!