Up early this morning and watched the sunrise over the old Norway Spruce  and was thinking how in this house I could walk around blind and still know where I am.  Our family has celebrated 115 years of Christmas’ in this old farmhouse. The table where we ate our festive feast is as much a fixture as the knule post at the bottom of the stairs. It is these floors that my ancestors have walked, the same door family and friends have been welcomed through. Over the years the walls have changed colour, doors have been closed over, and re-opened, walls put back up and creaky old wide plank floors have changed colour  and time marches on.  One generation gives way to another, but we can sense there blessings as we bow our heads in prayer to acknowledge why we have gathered.

New members of the family are welcomed, as old friends we lost touch with are once again guests at our table. This is the original Temenos…and we are thankful and blessed by that.

Last year Tim was too sick, and we spent Christmas instead with his Dad & sisters family. This year it was hard without him. Even with my family around me, there is an emptiness. Both Irish and I felt it. I don’t know what Dogs feel, but she has been down since we arrived and has hardly touched her dog food. Course, my nieces have been sneaking her morsels of god only knows what, so she could just be experiencing a tummy ache.

It has been wonderful to be home. Wonderful to hear the excitement Christmas morning, and of course Irish has been the centre of the girls attention. I am certain they were much more excited to see her then me…and that is fine…she is worthy of the adoration. She will be mightily missed when we return to the lake.

So the Temenos Journal will return to regular programming in a few days. ;-)