PG-13

Santa was holed up at our house for a long time. He came out of the closet this week to spend time building up strength to face the "Night of the Great Challenge". You've read, haven't you, that the fastest a reindeer can travel is about 32 MPH? You do the math about how long it'll take to get to everyone's domain.

So,taking his position on the hearth, near a trusty replica of abovementioned deer, Santa Claus was ruthlessly attacked today. It was the Beagle. I caught her red-coat and fur-trimmed covered, gnawing away at his hand. So much for not biting the hand that feeds you.

If you read yesterday's post you know I pet sit. If you didn't read it, well, now you know but you didn't laugh at the rest of that entry. My own dogs' behaviors leave me questioning my abilities. It's like kids though, I rationalize. Everyone else's seem to be no trouble at all.

I was in the house with this villan when the malicious crime took place. There I was, in the kitchen, making cold pea salad. You know the one: peas, cheese, and mayo. It was deathly quiet, no clatter at all, in the living room. The poor, stalwart fella had no chance. He'd been cornered. I stepped in to see what was the matter. It was already over.

I removed the bodily remains, grimly and silently. OK, that's just for drama. I uttered a sharp and disappointing "OH!"


Trashy Santa now is ready for his next stop, the outside cans. Before the week is out he'll be transported, swept away by unknowing workers, never to see his elves, his workshop, or, sigh, Mrs. Claus, again.




It seems as if it was only yesterday I was taking the Santa's helper hat I had set out away from this same dog. Ah, it was yesterday.

Well, I managed to re-attach that pom-pon so the hat is still a fashion statement. And, I kept the hood from dead Santa to stitch up and make a larger Donation Dog pocket for dog vests when we go a-collecting and a-caroling for APL. Tis the season.










All's well that ends well.
Guinnie is satisfied with a nylabone wishbone. I am hoping tomorrow is a slow news day.

Tales of Christmas

I nabbed this image and forgot to get the artist's name, but he/she has my thanks!

Do you have a favorite Christmas tale? Besides the one that started it all, mine is A CHILD'S CHRISTMAS IN WALES.

But I've never read it. Somehow, somewhere I stumbled across an audio tape of Dylan Thomas reading it and bought it, probably without knowing anything other than I liked Thomas' work. Dumb luck.

Driving from central Illinois to upper Kentucky one cold and wintry evening I listened to him read it and best remember going through Cincinnati and being enthralled but needing to pay attention to the road.

I'd never been thru Ohio before and I was all too aware of my tendency to drive beyond my exit when I got caught up in a story. It was night and I'd been on the road a few hours already. It was snowing and I was driving a sports car. I finally had to rewind a bit of the tape, stop it for awhile and drive on till I was out of range for the city lights.

That was a strange trip: an ordeal with a Schneider transport truck - a big meanie trying to shove off the road. (I don't carry a grudge - not much!); discovering Frankenstein University, seeing Louisville Sluggers HQ across the river, and wandering into a religious college's art guild/store - Berean, I think it was - wood and wool and pottery items. Something like that.

I came back a different route, past Santa Claus, Indiana. I listened to the tape again.

There's something about hearing a book read by the person who wrote it. That enables getting the understanding the author wants the reader to have. The way the words sounded in their heads, when they wrote them, are they way they speak them for us. In this case it was particularly grand and I felt transported.

As a child my favorite story was THE LITTLEST ANGEL. Oh, how I wore that book out! And a few years ago, when on-line shopping became popular, I sought out an old copy of it and found it - just like the one I had. Who knows, it could have been my copy but I had/have a habit of putting my name in books so perhaps not. Anyway, I read it and weep. Simple. Direct. Sentimental. Meaningful. I guess that's why I like THE VELVETEEN RABBIT too. Same basic format. Lesson-filled. Get real, seriously.

I can't help but see some of that in the longer, image-filled A CHILD'S CHRISTMAS IN WALES. This makes me a creature of habit then, when it comes to reading. I want my heart warmed at some point. If it costs me a few tears, fine. If I throw myself at my pets or my husband, OK. If I jot a note, send an email, make a call, good. The line between fiction and non-fiction becomes blurred when I think about these 3 books.

Gosh, there were much simpler times in this world when people were where they belonged instead of always trying to get where they thought they belonged. We strung popcorn and apple slices, made paper chains and other ornaments for the tree. People used English correctly as well as sparingly, and listened. We saved money in Christmas Clubs at the bank so we could buy gifts, or we used lay-away. There were secret Santas. There were school concerts. We knew and sang 2 or 3 verses of each Christmas carol and gladly went around serenading folks at home and accepting a cookie or hot chocolate. It was called Christmas.

I'm glad I got where I was going that year. Gladder still that I got home safely, wiser for what I'd discovered along the way. I was where I belonged.

We don't need to bring everything from our pasts forward but wouldn't it be nice to re-start just one old habit, one childhood tradition? Now, when everything is tumultuous shouldn't we re-establish our appreciation for what matters?

Start with the Christmas Story itself, and then recall your favorite Christmas tale. Share it and take it from there. You may surprise yourself at how easy it is to enjoy being where you are, where you belong.

Intersecting Wanderings

Someone on the passenger side of a car in the middle lane at an intersection opened the door and put down a fast food beverage cup just because he/she is a lazy SOB. Is this the root of what is wrong with all of us? We just don't care enough about our own world, or fellow persons? Someone will get paid to pick that up. Is that acceptable thinking in this country?

A good deed was observed today when we were in traffic, headed towards my mom's nursing home. A vehicle either broke down or ran out of gas at another intersection. Two young men popped out of two different vehicles to assist the owner in pushing the vehicle through the intersection so traffic could proceed. YES!

Earlier this week Frieda Joy, one of our dogs, and I went to visit my friend John. He recently moved to a new independent living complex in a Chicago 'burb. We took a route in that had us traveling through my hometown. We didn't go past the house I grew up in but did turn at the intersection where the grade school building is and it is now a community center with lots of senior activities. I could be back in my kindergarten classroom if I lived up there.

Anyway, John loved meeting Frieda and she got past being timid in a strange place filled with all new people. After our visit we went to the nearest major intersection and hopped on the tollway to I-55 and scooted home. I'm not sure I liked that way even though it was faster. There's something about poking along memory lane that adds color to a trip.

Lucky us; I really mean that! Finally the new local bakery is open and we've been there twice this week. That's you-know-who's doing, not mine. I've managed two cups of coffee and 1/2 cran/nut muffin. HE's downed a double-sized piece of apple struedel and an order of biscuits and gravy with his two cups of java. Nonetheless, it is all "from scratch" goodies and we'll be making it another "regular" stop when we do rounds. Today we got a bonus: ran into an old friend we hadn't seen in a year; he'd moved. We got caught up on happenings and know we'll see him again. He went to school with the guy in the family who owns the bakery. Actually they own all four corners of this intersection and have put businesses in two and leased the third to another. It's all in a, well, I want to say, recovering, neighborhood. Good for them - they are part of the solution.

Now, I gotta ask: Is Christmas totally LOST? No carols in stores, lackluster "Happy Holidays" and non-existent "Merry Christmas" exclamations, no acknowledgment of the meaning of Christmas? This year, more than ever, it seems people are focused entirely on retail and the economy and change. The one thing that hasn't changed is why we have a Christmas in the first place. A 42" HD tv along with WWii, an iPod, and who knows what else vs. let's see, a relationship with family, friends and God? Ah, the intersection of Xmas and Christmas...I Believe.

Merry Christmas!
I'll be saying THAT again!