CAPITOLETTER

December 22, 2024

A Visit from a Saint

‘Twas the night before Christmas on Tie Creek and Capitol.

The blizzard was blowing. It was thirty below.

Our cellars were filled with bountiful glass jars

of freeze dried and canned foods, and things from bazaars.

Our stockings were on in a layer or two,

In hopes that our toes didn’t all turn bright blue,

And Grandma had on her special lined pants

She won’t take off ‘till she sees new green plants.

While Grandpa sat huddled two feet from the heater,

Refusing to look at the temperature meter.

When what to their wondrous eyes should appear,

But the outline...