Well, the house is all decorated for Christmas. It took about two weeks, causing me to wish I could hire one of those creative firms that does it all for you.

Wouldn’t you know it, there’s a young possum perched right now on my front door transom, eating my over-the-door fruit decoration — I’m writing this just after midnight. This is the first year in seven that a critter has interfered with my Williamsburg-style decor, and we’re fascinated at the amount this guy has eaten in a week. We’ve been finding the evidence each morning, but this is the first night we’ve actually confirmed the species and witnessed the feasting. Our pediment, once adorned by apples, pears and pineapple, will be bare by mid-December.

I’m just glad he’s not a rat.

Meanwhile, our second daughter, the one who attends Ole Miss, brought home a bull mastiff puppy she “saved” from the Oxford Wal-Mart parking lot in the midst of exams – surprise.

We’re trying to find him a happy home with responsible owners, as I’m just not prepared for another baby at this time, and a big baby at that. I sent out one e-mail and have many responses, which surprises me, so we’ll be trying to get him settled this week before Christmas. I thought people were abandoning pets during the economic crisis, but maybe not in Cobb as much.

I heard a Mitch Miller song on the radio the other day, and thought there’s something cool about the retro sound of bass, baritone and a soaring solo tenor every now and then — no effects, no synthesizers, and no shame, just real men’s voices in three quarter time with maybe even an accordion, I can’t be sure.

Mitch (and Sing Along With Mitch) reminds me of Christmas Eves at my Nonny’s house in Omaha, sneaking pieces of hard candy from the cut glass jar in her French provincial living room (she was so proud of that) while the adults smoked and laughed around the kitchen table.

Her avocado green wall-to-wall went so well with the red Christmas paper, and I’d sit at her frosty window, looking out at the snow, and wonder where Santa’s sleigh was headed next. Mitch and the guys would be singing, and all would be right with the world.

Isn’t it funny the memories that rush in when we’re least expecting them?