I have always been afraid of stepping on saints . . . .but more about that later.
If there is one thing about the merry side of Christmas that will forever be intertwined with my husband Jim, it is the eye twinkle. My husband was svelte and clean-shaven, where Santa is hirsute and on the husky side, and gives little hint of a diet outside my own preferred one of milk and cookies. But they share a patented twinkle. Continue reading “Don’t Step on the Saints!”