After
a spiritual Sabbath day, why is the materialistic me coming out? Are writing personal history and sharing
thoughts just excuses now to make a self-centered list of Christmas wishes? Is my second childhood showing up? With so much stuff, why would I want
more? Rhetorical questions. Thinking out
loud. No need to answer. “But where are the verbs?” you wonder. “Alright without them,” I think to myself;
(to whom else would I think?)
Moving on,
if not too late for Santa’s
production program, here’s my short list ("Ned's Nine") in random order:
toy
train
country
cookies (oatmeal raisin)
storybook for reading to grandchildren and Grandma
big black
bags for sacking stashed stuff
chocolate
chunks (we dig dark)
poetry, prose, or pictures
of posterity
sweet
bread – the staff of life
cloth
covers for personal pillows (not pillowcases)
peculiar paperback publication (third request to surprise me)
familiar family photo
family favorite by Farr's
our two oldest, happy with Santa's gifts in "H" Street home bsmt.
U of U Beta Fraternity dog with Ann & Ned, published in SL Tribune on a 1950s Christmas Day
early Christmas arrival weighing 7 lbs. 13 ozs. – art by the proud papa
