I love the one of his patting the Clydesdale's rump.
I love the one of his patting the Clydesdale's rump.
Speaking of Christmas, I’ve just put up the first of the poems by Henry Livingston, author of “Night Before Christmas.” People always ask why Henry didn’t announce himself as the author when the poem was anonymously published. I always thought of this poem, The Careless Poet’s Soliloquy, as Henry’s answer. Illustrations are vintage postcards.
I hereby officially request Melania’s cape when she’s done with it. Sure, it will sweep the floor on my height challenged bod, but it’s awesome!
