I put my Christmas tree up on the weekend. Laden with my treasures, decorations I have collected over the last 20 plus years, decorations from all ends of the earth. My tree is special to me. I’ve written about it before.
Then today, my tree became even more special. Even though it was half expected, in the post was my Christmas Pickle. It had travelled a long way, but had been made by a woman I admire enormously, made with generosity by a woman with humour and heart and talent, a woman I call friend, even though we have never met each other. The Christmas pickle will take pride of place on my tree.
I am so envious—but very happy for you and your pickle. Would also love to see a photo. xxxooo to you both (and the pickle!)!
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Wow, I can’t believe the gynormous generosity of whoever it was who laboured over that pickle for you Mali :).
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I have hopes of my own pickle next year.
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I’m sure you would have received a pickle this year, but Pickle(d) Santa didn’t see it on his list.
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Or her list.
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Sigh. That’s the problem with leaving comments on blogs late in the game. Sometimes people never get back to see your wishlist! xxxooo (Perhaps I’ll make next year’s list!)
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I want to see a photo of this pickle.
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Ditto on the photo request. 😉
I have a Christmas lobster (with a wreath in his claws), which i picked up on a business trip to Nova Scotia some years ago. 😉
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[…] others from my mother. I’ve written too about the objects that warm my heart: birds from IB, my Christmas Pickle from Helen, and my quilt from […]
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[…] Helen’s Christmas pickle […]
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