Christmas pining: a matter of difference

Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge

It was a mixed marriage.

Those did happen.

The tall and short of it.

She said violin

He called fiddle.

He preferring plays by Shakespeare.

She adoring Robert Burns poetry.

She a competitive bridge player reading books by experts for plans.

He bluffing each bridge hand with a poker face

It’s the opposites attract thing.

She dipped and flowed through ballroom dancing.

He allemande left through dance squares.

Together, they choreographed life.

Until Christmas

She was all traditional: deep Williamsburg green with red velvet bows, white candles, and holly branches. Classic. elegant.

He was multicolored stings of lights on the house, wide red ribbon wrapped on porch posts like candy canes – with a lighted Santa’s head floating disemboweled – or strangled  – by extension chords.

All joy.

She was practical and fair (to the penny) about giving presents so as “not to show favorites”.

One big one and stocking ones…

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