This past Sunday, we had our annual Christmas Church Feast. It was beautiful. Joyful. A merry time for all. We held it at a community center in a nearby town that I just love. It’s beautiful because it has beams.
This is mine and Stuart’s third time attending the Feast. So I knew what to expect. I should have remembered. I should have been wise. Dangit, Shaye, why are you so forgetful!!!!!
We walked in in our jeans and “nice” sweaters. I felt pretty dressed up because I had my “going-to-town” boots on (they are pink at the top and, like, so uptown-cowgirl). I felt fancy. Until I remember that the majority of people dress formal for this spectacular feast. I mean beautiful dresses. Shalls. Suits. Ties. Polished shoes. Curls in their hair.
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