A delivery man interrupted our post-Christmas sleep-in this morning, trying to deliver an Epson printer that, I suppose, should have arrived before the holidays.

Only problem was..it wasn’t ours. He wanted 199 Greenbriar — the Howerys — at the other end of our private road. I sent him on his way and headed for the coffee pot.

I loaded trash from the Christmas wrappings into the Liberty Monday night so, coffee in hand, I headed for the dumpsters on Franklin Pike. All overflowed with others’ Christmas trash so I stuffed our bags into the mix and headed back home.

In the garage stood two of my Christmas presents: One assembled, one not. I put the six-foot ball shiny, stainless steel tool chest, a present from Amy, together Christmas morning. Finally, a place for all my tools currently scattered here and there in a half-dozen or so toolboxes. Good project for the week.

The workbench, a present from my mother, will have to wait until I clear out enoug wall space to assemble it. Maybe this week, maybe next. We’ll see.

Amy’s primary Christmas present is on her finger. After 27 years of marriage, I finally gave her an engagement ring, a three-diamond affair that sits in a band that matches our wedding rings. We really didn’t have an engagement. We decided to get married on a Wednesday and tied the knot that Friday in our minister’s living room in Alton, Illinois.

Her secondary present caused a conversation when I purchased it. The sales clerk looked at the 7 and 1/4 inch circular saw and asked “buying yourself a present?”

“No,” I said. “This is a present for my wife.”

“Your wife wants a circular saw for Christmas?”

“Yep.”

“Man, that’s weird.”

“Not if you knew my wife.”

A quiet, family Christmas this year: My mother and younger brother came over for dinner although Amy cooked enough for three times as many: Turkey, ham and all the trimmings. We will be eating leftovers until the New Year at least.

As happens too often, our celebration was dampened somewhat by death. Brian Childress, son of legendary minister Bob Childress and pastor at the church I grew up in, Buffalo Mountain Presbyterian, died late last week. My mother went to high school with Brian and the other Childress brothers.

We unwrapped presents late in the afternoon. I now have a new leather jacked, enough Lagerfeld to last several years, a new shirt and a new watch to add to my collection of timepieces. Amy has some new earrings and a collection of decorative tiles for use on a table she’s building (hence the circular saw).

We hope everyone else had a happy and safe Christmas and our best wishes for an equally happy and safe New Year.