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It was a grand Saturday  seeing my twin brother and sister and youngest
brother. My twin lives in NY, right where we grew up. He flew down for the 
weekend to go to a basketball game.My youngest brother usually gets to 
NY for a baseball game so this was my twin's turn. 

I started Mary Poppins, She Wrote : The Life of P.L. Travers on the ride 
back. We listened to Tim Keller sermons both ways. I feel full. 
Good food, good time, and good words. ND Wilson says in his book,
Death by Living that life needs to be spent. It was today. 

A great thought for writers from P.L. Travers: 

"During most of her childhood, Lyndon ( the L. in her name) was absorbed
by the experience of being a bird, brooding, busy, purposeful. She sat for hours , her arms clasped tightly around her body. 'She can't come in, she's laying, ' her family
and friends would say. ......The vision of herself as a mother hen suited Lyndon's 
theory that to write, one must brood......When interviewers spoke to her of inspiration,
she often said, ' I hate the word creative. Brooders. That's the word. I would say
there are brooders in life. That's why I've always had this attachment to hens and 
nests , not because of the egg, but the quiet brooding, pondering," In the kitchen 
of her last home in London, the dresser was covered with pottery hens. " 

This made me think upon my blogger friend , The Book of Common Life. 
She has Milk , one of her hens , on this post. 

My Christmas tree is still up and my blog headliner.
I will start with changing the headliner. 
Tree tomorrow. It was so cozy on the cold days to be in front of the fire 
and the tree twinkling.  I will miss it.