The Christmas ill has arrived.
I am still knitting.
The shopping is NOT done.
The presents are NOT wrapped.
Yes, there is panic mixed in with the death-warmed-over feelings.
I am a Kentucky mountain girl far from home, perhaps far from the girl years. Still, my heart longs to return to the top of Low Gap mountain and peer off into the distance; to see the hills rolling and tumbling out before me, and the wind ruffling the trees' leaves, causing them to ripple like waves in some immense pond.
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