Saturday, December 24, 2011

A Little Merry Christmas Gift For You

It's Christmas Eve Day, and the excitement is building to an almost unbearable level at my house.

Just a little poem I wrote some while back, which some of you may have already seen. Thought it was appropriate for the holiday.

Hope all of you have a safe, joyous Christmas and holiday season. May God bless you all with health and fond memories for the future. I would love to hear about them.




It was just before Christmas and throughout the city, the only one stirring was one busy kitty. She’d planned many days for a holiday treat. One special and sweet for her children to eat.

When she knew beyond doubt that her babies were sleeping, as midnight was striking, she softly went creeping. Her kitchen was waiting with spicy supplies. She got right to work on her tasty surprise.

With her apron tied ‘round her she reached for her cookbook, but finding no recipe turned to her Facebook. She gathered ingredients fresh as new snow and mixed them together into a stiff dough.

As her rolling pin spun and she hummed a low tune, she flattened the dough, and then picked up her spoon. She carved a round head, added arms and two legs. To give it a luster, she brushed it with eggs.

Soon the air came alive with the scents of her baking. The gingerbread man in the oven was waking. Bright cinnamon eyes and broad licorice smile were getting quite warm on that cooking stone tile.

At the chime of the timer the cat donned her mittens. With visions of joyful sounds from her kittens she opened the door to remove the small man, but squeaked in alarm when he jumped from the pan.

“It’s a tasty confection you are, nothing more. I’ll stop you before you’re halfway to the door.”
He laughed as he shouted, “You’ll never catch me!” Then he tripped on the rolling pin, snapping his knee.

But the cat needn’t worry, her children were ready. They stalked the small morsel with steps slow and steady. They gobbled him up from his feet to his head. Then bathed their sweet faces and went back to bed.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Favorite Christmas Snow Story

The subdivision I grew up in was called Salisbury Hills. Our house was located near the bottom of the first hill, which was the best for skateboarding, sledding, and bike tricks. The next hill over was too curvy, and the third one was too steep. I nearly killed myself on that third hill one year on a skateboard. Our hill curved at the top, but then was a nice gradual decline that circled around another broad curve at the bottom. We never had to worry about snowplows or traffic, until evening settled in and dads began returning home for a hot meal and a couple of hours of television.

Two days before Christmas, as the neighborhood kids gathered on our street to enjoy the considerable snow that had accumulated over night, word began to circulate that a dog had gone missing. The dog belonged to a neighbor who lived several streets away, in the newer part of the subdivision. He wasn't known to most of us, except for the fact that he and his wife were an older couple, and they always gave out money rather than candy at Halloween. Now they had lost their beloved poodle, and were offering a cash reward for his return.
Money was always a little short in our neighborhood, so in no time every kid around had joined in the hunt for the little white dog.

I guess it was fun, hunting for that dog, I don't really remember. I do remember worrying about that poor pooch, and being determined to find him. The reward was an enticing incentive, but concern for the dog was what kept me searching after other kids grew tired of the game and went back to their sleds.

As evening approached, I knew my time was running out. I had searched and called for that dog for hours, and the only living creature I had unearthed was a rabbit hiding under an upturned fishing boat in someone's back yard. I was running out of time, and running out of places to look.

Then I glanced up the hill and saw the Old Folks' Home, as we called it. It was a large white house, there before ground was ever broken for the subdivision. It may have been the original farm house before the property was divided up, but now it was old, and housed old people, and no one ever went there.
Something about the house drew my attention. Of course, it was on the far side of Salisbury Road, at the edge of our subdivision, where I wasn't allowed to go because of the traffic. But the longer I looked at that house, the more determined I became that possibly, the dog had wandered that way.

All the other kids had gone in inside to warm up and eat their dinners. I knew my mom was probably getting worried, but I couldn't give up on the dog. What if he froze to death because everyone gave up on him?

I looked both directions and then dashed across the road. Then I ran up the hill to the big white house. The snow was halfway up my boots as I plodded through the drifts surrounding the house, calling to the dog as I searched behind every bush and into window wells. I had circled the entire house when I glanced up and saw a face staring at me through a window. The face disappeared, only to reappear a moment later behind the upper half of a door. I stared back, stamping my feet in the cold that had become more intense now that evening was settling in.

The door opened and a woman leaned out. "Are you okay?" She asked, or something to that effect, I can't recall for sure. I told her I was looking for a lost dog, and wondered allowed if she had seen it. "What kind of dog?" she asked. I told her it was a white poodle. She disappeared for a second, and then returned with a little white ball of fluff in her arms.

I took the ten dollars the man offered me when he dropped me off at my house a short time later. I felt guilty, but only a little, because I had already figured out that the whole thing was a ruse. He had planted the dog at the house, where he knew it would be safe and warm, just so that he could reward a neighborhood kid. It was his way of helping out, without making it obvious. I never let on that I was on to him. The more I thought about it, the more I admired the guy for his cleverness. I made some new friends at the nursing home while waiting for him to come pick up his dog, I got ten dollars for spending the day outside, which I would have done for nothing anyway, and I found the dog.

So there you have it. The end. Thanks for listening. I'd love to hear your winter memories of snow and adventure, if you've got the time to share.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Santa Claus Is Coming!

This is my very first post on my brand new blog. Thanks to fellow writer and lifelong pal, Cornell Deville, I now have a small space in the virtual realm to call my own. Hopefully, many of my special friends will stop by from time to time and check out the latest. And I'm also hoping to make many new friends as time goes by.

Today has been busy. Put away the peanut brittle I made yesterday - this batch turned out edible - I cut up the fudge and tucked it away. Also managed to make caramel pretzels and oatmeal raisin cookies this morning. The kitchen is now clean and the rest of the day is mine for writing.

Oh, and it's SNOWING!!! I've been waiting for this day. I love snow. Hate driving in it, but love watching it fall from the sky. There's something so wondrous and miraculous about snow. The intricacies of each tiny flake, the startling cold of it as it falls onto your cheeks, the brilliance of it once it blankets the ground and the sun strikes it. And don't forget the way it magically transforms everything common and turns it into a fantasy world of pristine white.

Later this week I'll share with you one of my favorite memories connected with snow. But for now, I'd love to hear from you. Do you like snow? Have you ever seen snow? Would you prefer to never see it again?

Thanks to everyone (or anyone) who comes by. I know the word isn't out yet, but I'm here now, and I hope we'll share some great times together.

Until later,