Three Little Girls with Three Little Curls

We'll revert to the traditional this evening, but here to get us through this most hectic day of the year, a salutory lesson:

Even Santa will fall for a plausible story if you're cute enough, and who could be cuter than the imposing trio of Miss Eileen Farrell, Miss Dorothy Collins, and the enchanting and terrifying Miss Dorothy Loudon? Here they are on the Garry Moore show in 1962, and I don't know about you, but the person most in my thoughts as this little wonder unfolds is the audio technician - can you imagine trying to man the primitive analog controls of those days as those three sets of lungs go at it?

Here at the Café, of course, we're being very nice indeed, and while we're a practical old couple and got each other our official presents well in advance, I wouldn't be surprised if there were a little treat or two under the tree tomorrow morning.  Having taken complete leave of our senses, as previously noted, we're having a dinner party in honor of the holiday, and so today will be spent covering a vast amount of territory trying to find all the necessaries ingredients and little luxuries, although we're experienced enough to know that, in the absence of dear Mrs. Galapatti-da Silva, it's wisest to rely on things that either can be prepared in advance or impress more through extravagance than complexity.

The only real hiccup I can see so far is the very uncooperative weather, as we usually depend on the balcony to act as an auxiliary refrigerator, and with temperatures more suitable to May than December that's right out the window (or not - it just won't seem like Christmas without a lineup of frosty bottles on the sill...). I'll just have to dispatch the Mister to find an open store with ice tomorrow morning.

As for all of you, I wish you the pleasantest of Christmas Eves, hoping that this endearing little slice of Christmas past will smooth you on your way. Ho, ho, ho, indeed!