Skip to main content

Merry Christmas To Us All

I'm pretty rusty at the piano these days, and my singing voice is even worse, so as a way to wish you all a merry Christmas—or happy holiday, whichever you prefer—here is a repeat of my personal Christmas card to Blogville recorded back when I was slightly more practiced.


My wish for us all is that we each have a delightfully memorable holiday, a much-needed rest from the day-to-day and that we get or give at least one gift that makes us happy.

Comments

dive said…
Sigh …
Simply beautiful, Robyn. Thank you so much for re-posting this.
Wishing you and the family (and Tiger and Baxter) a wonderful Christmas and a happy, healthy and prosperous 2012.
xx
Robyn Martins said…
Thank you, David. The thing is filled with glitches, but we'll call them personal touches. Have a great Christmas with your mother and brother, and give them my best wishes.
Speedway said…
Pretty, Scout. Have a happy day with your family.
MmeBenaut said…
Yes, lovely. Thank you Robyn dear. If I could play like that I wouldn't let myself get rusty. So beautiful. I hope that your Christmas was peaceful and loving.

Popular posts from this blog

Happy Birthday...

to me! Update: Since you have asked, I only got one actual packaged gift, a beautiful hand-made bracelet from a friend, but both girls were home for the weekend, and we had dinner at the lake and a relaxing weekend. Thanks to all of you for your lovely wishes!

My Sitemeter is All Bloated and Not Quite Itself

I'm tempted to let it sit on the couch with its feet curled up under a blanket, a hot cup of coffee in hand, a block of cherry almond bark Chocolove within reach, and An Affair to Remember spinning in the DVD player. I'm one of those obsessive bloggers, the kind who checks her sitemeter as often as possible throughout the day, the kind who gauges the quality of her writing by the number of readers who regularly stop by. I've become less interested in the overall number of hits and more interested in the number of repeat hits. The return visitors are the ones I long for. When my sitemeter reads forty at the end of the day, and the majority of those hits are webpals who have conversed, I'm happy. Forty may seem low to many of you, but I've only been at this since August. To me, forty is a jackpot. A few days ago, I sat down at my laptop and discovered a number somewhere in the eighties. Eighties! Yippee! Yeeha ! Hoo-rah ! I've been discovered by the webworld , o...

Ish People

Tell an Ish person to show up around 9 a.m., and you'll see them somewhere around 9 a.m. Tell them to show up at 9ish, and you'll see them anywhere from 9:05 to 9:20. You have given them license to dilly dally, and who wouldn't take advantage of that? The other night at the big shindig dinner party, one of the drummers said the rehearsal the next morning would begin at 9ish. "I am an ish person," he says. Immediately the clanker goes off in my head--oh, good, I thought. I can deliver my daughter a little late. No Ish person is early, so if you say 9ish, that does not mean give or take 5, 10, 15 minutes. It's exclusively a taking phrase. Take an extra 10 minutes to drink your cup of coffee. We won't mind. We're Ish people. Sunday's rehearsal started at 2:00. Because it was conducted by the same people who conducted the Saturday rehearsal, my understanding was 2-ISH. My daughter is worse than I am about taking liberties with Ish time frames, so she d...