With all the holiday preparations and family things going on, I haven't been able to spend much time in the blogosphere lately. But, I did come across something festive, a "ghost of Christmas past," in all of the bustle.
I lived in Africa from 1976 to 1980 (the reason I am not allowed to give blood or donate my organs).
There I am, with my brother and some of the local kids. I don't know what I was looking at.
On Christmas, we would go to the home of the American Ambassador for a Christmas party. Santa would make an appearance, bearing gifts for all the kids - you know, the usual. What was unusual was that Santa would ride into the yard on a camel.
Here I am in, I think, 1978. I'm getting my gift from the recently cameled Saint Nick.
I got a wind-up plane that spun in circles on the floor.