The wind chimes are chiming in the wind in the backyard. The breeze is warm enough that the patio door is open, and the music is ringing in from the yard.
Other than the chimes, it is quiet out there. No cars. No kids. No racket in the alley. Undoubtedly, children all about have set out cookies and milk (if that’s still a thing) and hastened off to bed.
Miss Izzy is looking sleepy; she did a bit of hastening herself not too long ago. And the fair and industrious Trudy has also given up the ghost, having suffered an ignominious defeat at Scrabble — it was a one point game (to make up for that 100 point defeat I suffered at her hands over Thanksgiving). Ignominious indeed, as in marked by shame or disgrace, degrading, debasing. Yep. That was it. So she gave up the ghost only moments ago.
And here I sit, gloating alone at the keyboard. What fun is there in that? Maybe it’s time for this one to give up the ghost, too.
May the sugar plums be with you.