Everyone is Giving, Giving, Giving

Our next-door neighbors brought down this fun gift package - drinks and snacks.  It was great to pull all these treats out of the bag and just sit back, snack.  And so thoughtful for them to give.

Last year, a friend in one of my book clubs had reserved that month's book at the library.  She was leaving on vacation, wanting to bring the book to read on the plane - but, unfortunately, the book hadn't come in yet.  I'd finished that title early and so borrowed my copy to her.  While on her vacation, she bought me a souvenir bookmark, filed it into one of her other books for safe-keeping and only just ran across it a few weeks ago.  So, she gave me the bookmark at our last meeting.  I've mentioned before, I like gifts that come late - it extends the celebration - and this was such a nice gesture - a much appreciated Thank-You.

And then,....I was at Target yesterday and when my purchases were totaled, the cashier gave me a gift card, saying that a woman had bought it, told the cashier to wait a few customers and then give it to the next person - which turned out to be me.  It was $5 - a little gesture - but so made my day.

Listening to a Christmas music radio station this morning in the car and the announcer was talking about a local band, Rocket Club, who would be playing in Minneapolis tonight.  The band had been in the studio earlier this morning and sang a few Christmas songs which the announcer then played on the air.  The first one was Little Toy Trains - one of my very favorites (although I say that about a lot of them so...).  This song always makes me choke up.  It isn't a sad song at all but there's just something about the sequence of notes that match the string of words to create a heartstring tugger for me.  Maybe it is also the place it takes me back to when I hear it.  Our basement, when I was growing up, had a big rec room occupied mostly by a pool table.  Against one wall was an old fashioned bar and a stereo closet (which also held the 8mm home movie films and projector).  My Dad ran wires through the walls and the through the floor so that we could have speakers upstairs where we could hear the music that was playing downstairs.  There was something magical about that.  We had an old (well, maybe not old at that time) country Christmas album that had Little Toy Trains on it and I remember being in the living room upstairs listening to this song about little toy trains and little toy tracks and a man dressed in white and red, knowing that the music was spinning around and around on the record player downstairs, traveling through the walls and under the floor.  These are the sugarplums that dance in my head.