Christmas in South Africa was always hot. Kids gathered around the tree, sunburns still stinging. “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas” pounding hopefully out over the radio. Our tree was always a live one and the years we gathered at Ouma and...
Christmas cookies are baked, Christmas music is playing, the fireplace is crackling warm and the tree, with all of its lights, is standing tall and elegant in the family room waiting the arrival of the stepchildren so that we can decorate the tree. Excitement fills...
She talks and talks and talks. She can talk for thirty minutes straight and never take a breath. My head is spinning and I want to put duct-tape over her mouth for just a few minutes and give my head a break. I need just a few minutes with my own thoughts so that I...
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