from Q

Happy Christmas to all - -

here at 7H, that was Christmas Eve sunset last evening, quite windy and chilling down, but after all the fiercely driving rain earlier. It turned out a proper evening for going to the late service at church.

Still cool, 39°F when we got up around seven o'clock this morning, 43° at the moment, wind NW 15 mph. Long line of low clouds on the horizon across the Bay, beyond Shell Island, out over the Gulf of Mexico.

covid Christmas is different, just us two here. Christmas Past, 7H would be filled with beloved personalities and voices, a large turkey in the oven. This time we have a leg of lamb, with a couple of new potatoes, onions, and several whole large mushrooms roasting. With it, an Argentine Malbec that I opened yesterday to air and be perfect for keeping the XRISTOS in Xmas. Matthew 11:19 and Luke 7:34, from Q obviously.

Not to mention my incomparable oyster dressing, so superb that, along with a mug of black coffee, I already had a serving for breakfast, with a dollop of plain yogurt on top to suffice for sour cream. Well, I also had a serving of it after church about midnight last night, with a three ounce sip of the Malbec.

Christmas. Did watch an excellent presentation of A Christmas Carol yesterday, and mean to find and watch A Christmas Story several times today,

for the 1937 Oldsmobile Six touring sedan as much as for the story itself. Ralphie's line "Some men are Baptists…others Catholics…My father was an Oldsmobile man."Been there done that but nearly forty years later. Well, twenty-five: a Christmas Story actually is dated later than the Oldsmobile, post WW2 - - in the flagpole licking scene, as the kids watch out the schoolroom window, the fire department arrives, then the police show up in a 1948 Chevrolet. At least, that's my recollection; there's a subtle difference between the 1947 and 1948 Chevrolet, in the front grill, so I'll check later when I'm watching it.

1948 Chevrolet town sedan

1947 Chevrolet town sedan

Not long after they married, my aunt DD and uncle Paul arrived from Pensacola in a brand new, gray 1947 Chevrolet convertible. Which, at my age 12, they trusted me to drive, the first convertible I ever drove, down Harrison Avenue, with the top down.

Soon enough, their first baby came along and they traded the Chevy convertible for a 1950 Buick Super sedan; the first Buick I ever drove, and the first car I drove with automatic transmission. Buick Eight with Dynaflow.

See, Christmas stirs your memories for you, and my memories for me. I always have to do the 1937 Olds.

Yep, see, it's a 1948 Chevrolet, I know you were as anxious to ID it as I:

And the Olds

- - and to all a goodnight.