It is dawn at our little house in the forest.  Cloudy and 24 degrees, but only traces of snow among the leaf litter.  Forecasters have annonced that the threatening storm will materialize out to sea and allow Chuck's sister and parents to come up the montain to join our Christmas feast.  Last year heavy snow kept them away.

Yesterday, we were among the many Americans in transit.  Elley caught her train from NYC after a sweet farewall to her boyfriend Adam.  We met her at the Lancaster station that is being renovated.  Anne ran in while Chuck sat in the car.  Parking was scarcely possible.

Alex flew from San Francisco.  We followed his progress by Internet, and he texted his status as well.  With a scheduled arrival at Harrisburg at 8:45 a.m. we had breakfasted and were ready to drive there when he texted that the flight that was supposed to take him from Newark to Harrisburg was cancelled.  The plane would not fly. 

Oh, oh.  The airline put him on a bus.  Now Elley would arrive first.  We met here and brought her back to York, stopping at a mall first and then ye olde vacuum cleaner shop where a rapid repair was made.  Being only about a hundred meters from the York Farmers' Market, we went there for lunch and to greet old friends.

Then it was time to drive back across the Susquehanna and past the famous Three Mile Island (billowing its nuclear steam) to the airport.  Alex had arrived.  We returned to York and found my sister arrived and Mom Strehl in true Christmas spirit.  She coralled enough energy to make her famous lasagna and was proud to host us. 

We chatted of current and past times with Chuck's parents and celebrated the reunion. 

Everyone was tired, especially Alex after his long trip, so we came home earlier than usual, skipping our stop at the York church service.  We scattered our gifts under  the little tree, shared a night cap, and went to bed.

Now, as usual, Anne and Chuck are up first.  Anne has lit the fireplace and started the coffee.  She is begging me, Chuck, to begin making breakfast, including regional traditional scrapple, and so I must go.  To all of you who glance at this website, we wish you a wonderful Christmas whereever you are.

Chuck & Anne