We “paws” to reflect

From gratitude to warm fuzzy feelings

This is the time of year that many people take a moment to reflect on the happenings of the past year. Some people that I know are skipping their “usual” in light of this very unusual year. Guilt over their abundance seems to make them pause their reflections and feel overwhelmed by the lack in others lives. That is not the case for me. I just decided to not stress out about writing a holiday letter this year.

Somehow, the common boasting about all that we have done, everywhere that we went, and all of the other things that find a way into the holiday news… well, what is wrong with saying “All is well” during a pandemic? Perhaps, that very statement should be our focus, and praise to the Maker of all things for our blessings.

Our lives are so full this year, it seems to overcome the emptiness of social distancing and quantified gatherings.

My favorite thing about this mild winter so far, is the abundance of geranium blooms in my greenhouse. The new baby plants get their blooms plucked before they have a chance to sneeze their fragrance. But the older plants are allowed to do their thing. The red, white and green keep me feeling so very blessed with new growth. But the “Pink Blush” geranium is my favorite. And of course it is taking it’s own sweet time in multiplying. I have only been able to take one slip from the mother plant so far. The construction hub and the bloom sum up the large majority of my time this year.

We “paws” to reflect on how our lives changed during this year of world wide health crisis and the conflict that spilled over. Anger was just something that I do not choose to live in. The constant upheaval of other’s inappropriate actions will not be my guide to how I live my days.

My consistent browsing on the internet at puppies, found me an old doggie to ad to our farm yard collection. Eva is an old breeding retiree. Her yellow Labrador retriever attitude has brought some upheaval. Otherwise, we just buy more food. She simply does not want to leave anything alone that does not belong to her. I think her years in the kennel have left her wanting. She will spend most of her retirement plainly being a dog.

Honey does not know how to behave with such a mild momma. We discovered that she was snapping at Eva a bit excessively. At one point Honey even caused a blood vessel to rupture in Eva’s left ear. We had to put Eva on steroids. Our little yellow “Ewok” has nearly recovered. She looks like a little Gremlin greeting us in the morning because that ear sticks out some.

Most days the two of them get along okay. They have their own ideas about companionship to me, so we get along okay also.

Christmas would just not be the same without some woodworking project to keep us preoccupied during the preparations. This year our stress level could not handle any large project like tables or desks. So we chose to make a new piggy bank for the newest member of the family. Of course if I say too much, someone will not be surprised. So, you will just have to wait for a full view! Nevertheless, i was rather pleased that making the poly-shade green was easily done with a little tempra paint I found in the back of the closet.

So far, so good! These two unlikely pet-sisters managed to sort of stay for a photo moment. It took over a dozen pictures to find one that is just right for the Christmas card.

However, because we have a new grandson this year, he and his sister will get first pick. Sorry puppies! Christmas at our house will be about the little grand babies!

Merry Christmas to all of my readers.

Thank you all so much ofr the feed back. It is much appreciated.

It’s working

Rather maybe I am

It’s working! The pattern is working. Or rather maybe I am working. Counting in sequence is fun. At least I think so. I can hardly wait to see this little table runner with the Christmas Poinsettia finished.

This past year has been a real challenge for many people.

With the healthcare crisis and the changes on the horizon, some of these challenges have entered my life. Others have not.

In my circle of friends and family, the pandemic has not changed the way that we live a whole lot. There are only a handful of healthcare workers in the family so I have to search the friends list to find those most impacted in that manner. But the rest of us have felt the ripple effect.

My husband has been searching for answers to his back pain most of the fall, and will barely get into the doctor before the holidays. Some healthcare systems are indeed taxed. It is frustrating to wait but that seems to the word for the year, and this season.


Was not the whole story of Christ’s coming the idea that a nation was waiting for the Messiah to come? Waiting for the Deliverer is not something people spend much time thinking of anymore. However, these days, there are a lot of people waiting for the vaccine for this nasty virus. Of course those in the initial receiving line, are not expecting mothers. And the vaccine is not a blanket of salvation to all those who wait.

Yet, wait we must.

Christmas time seems to be the appropriate time for this “gift of salvation” to begin it’s work. However, the correlation to the young virgin Mary in her expectant phase traveling to the little village of Bethlehem to attend the census seems so very fitting to me. She waiting for the child to come. The people of that time waiting for the Messiah to come. And the many people now hoping for some end to this world pandemic thing.


So while I spend the year waiting, I have not been idle. In the book of Esther, the young queen takes it upon herself to invite the king and his closest confidants to a meal. She does not sit idly by, but involves herself in the fast while preparing a feast. It all turns out well in the long run, and it is one of my favorite stories.

For such a time as this, it is no time to be idle. So I learned something new this year. Mosaic crochet was not on my radar as a new pastime. But it has indeed become my waiting activity. I never though that I could learn to read the charts with all of their little circles and dots and such. Give me a simple picture, and maybe I can copy it.

So here we go. As much as I loved the “sow in tear” prayer shawl, I now have many other patterns to choose. From my Prayer Chamber Shawl, to the Hope square, to the Mulberry Bush Shawl, and a pillow, now I have a Christmas Poinsettia to learn.

Having the worldwide web at my fingertips to find pictures and patterns has been amazing. I wish I could do the more complicated pictographs, but they are not usually simple mosaic crochet. So I will continue on through the designs that I find.

Perhaps all this waiting does have a purpose.

Psalm 27:14 “Wait on the Lord. Be of good courage. And He shall strengthen your heart; Wait, I say, on the Lord.” (ESv)

The dog ate my Christmas

No, really! She did it, Mom!

This old girl’s name is Eva. Sometimes I think it is a misspelling if you get my gist. But most of the time she really is an angel. I suppose it’s our fault. We didn’t put a water in the kennel, so to lock her, there will have to a lot of cord juggling and such so that her water would stay thawed out and the bucket not get cracked.

Meanwhile, we decided to use an automatic food service delivery and she learned that the packages contain food. Well, that started the whole ball rolling and even though we do not have snow right now, there was a mighty large snow mountain in the yard and the mess nor our attitudes towards her could handle the ice and snow!

So this particular day, we tied the box to her collar and made her drag around “Christmas” all day so that she would stop eating it. I honestly do not think it will work, so we will just lock her up if a package should come when we are gone. Which by the way it did several times this past week. And I am not gone from home much these days.

This one day I decided to crochet another remake. The hat was so thin and not very warm. Also the mittens were a pair of fingerless mitts that I wore on the motorcycle some. The job took me a couple of days but it was just in time for an outing on a warmer day.

Honey must have felt a little bad that Eva got in so much trouble for the package thievery. She has taken up one of her toys to tell me that “Somebody in a car is here!” I was both pleasantly surprised and a little bit in awe when it was the mail-lady with a parcel delivery. Yeah, Honey kept Eva out of the dog house! Haha!

The tethered box, got me to thinking about solving one of my walking problems. The dog’s compete so much to be first while on separate leashes, that we often get tangled up or my shoulders hurt really bad after the exercise.

So I tried the tethered walk with the two dogs one day. Amazing! Eva gets the harness latch on her collar and I run the leash through a slip hook on Honey’s collar. Wow! Solved my problem of sore shoulders all by myself. Neither one of them pulls on the leash anymore. And Honey has to be the dog-in-charge like she really is supposed to be. No more pulling! the double sided tug on Honey works like the harness. Yay! And I have my hands more free to swing my arms as is natural to walking.

We finally found someone to reupholster the old day bed from Gavin’s folks. She did such a beautiful job. I had a picture of the whole day bed, but don’t want to spoil the beauty by giving away the picture! So Here’s the little story. We cleaned up the wood a couple of summer’s ago and it sat in the old house next door for two years. Then we ought the fabric pre-Covid. I had one lady lined up and she canceled on me with the “mask shortage.” She was busy sewing masks for the healthcare etc.

This fall I got on the phone and made a few calls to find a new person. I forgot that my husband was buying the fabric based on touch. The feel of the daybed is both luxurious and simple. This little pillow was another one of my mosaic crochet studies. Now that I know how to make the continuous crochet tapestry fabric, more pillows may find their way into my loved ones lives. It was so much fun to do, I could not put it down until it was finished.

Meanwhile, out on the ranch… haha. My husband pampered me by trying this mulberry stump rocket stove. We burned it three weekends in a row, putting the fire out with water each time. The third time it began to fall apart. It was a fun way to warm up while the forty degree weather tempted us to stay outside awhile longer. Don’t judge us for using up good firewood. The stack by the woodshed/chicken coup would supply someone for at least two winters. If the racoon’s don’t destroy the stack too many times.

Only two weeks until Christmas and I have not done any of the usual things. My gift making still seems to be far delayed and not near enough time. Letter writing is still on the back burner, and the thought of trying to do a Christmas card seems overwhelming. The gatherings so few, there really are not very many pictures to use.

Looking forward to the Holiday holds a hint of apprehension. Some have already had the virus, but others have not. So caution will probably hold a great big yellow yield sign over every thing that we do.

Hopefully, I can get you another update on all the happenings around here sometime soon. Trying not to get overly “busy.” It seems like focus on the true gift of Christmas is far more important than on all the trappings of the holiday.

Romans 6:23 says, “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (ESV)

Stocking shelves

Finding the larder lacking…

Now thar’s an ol’ saying ye don’ hear tell much anymawr!

I just finished listening to a “Dandy Gilbert Mystery” and the English and Scotch brogue has stuck to me better then the clear tape I was using on the gift wrap. That thick and lazy tongue of language had me listening at top volume just to get the jist of it all. Uffdah. And there’s the Viking tongue to visit me this time of year.

Why do all the best mysteries have to have a flare of Sherlock and Holmes to them? Even the characters here are two detectives in the books. Ah, well, it ne’er make sense to anyone if they ha’n’t read the book also. On with the days

Today I am suppose to get my shelf stocking list made. The Menu for the meals written, and the last of the shopping items on a piece of paper. Yet, it feels like what I really need to do is keep cleaning the corners of my nest up. How come if we are empty nesters, do the corners of my nest keep getting filled with so much something?

Around about fourteen months ago, I decided to clean the tea cupboard and ended up breaking my foot. It’s amazing how little attention we all get for any little thing that happens. In that whole time, I only remember one person ever asking me how it was healing up. Getting a crooked back from the boot was the next most miserable thing to the break itself. Nevertheless, my foot did heal and I was able to wear the shoes that I bought for my daughter’s wedding. I am not mentioning this simply for the lack of attention, it’s just that whether we want to or not, we all take stock in the niceties that others lend us. And if other’s aren’t lending much thought… well, take stock in how much thought we ourselves offer.

Enough of the soap boxes…

Stocking shelves with whatever it is that we have this time of year is different than it use to be. I remember as a child going to the Prairie Market and getting enough boxed goods to last us four to six weeks. My dad still does the same thing. My mom does that quite a bit also. And we here can get by nearly a month sometimes with no more to purchase but milk and cheese or a bag of apples. Storing up the goods for the winter has become a lost art with the grocer just on the next convenient block over. Gas for the car, milk for the kid.

It seems the dog and cats run out of food more frequently that we do.

Back to the season at hand…

The most enjoyable stocking of shelves that I witnessed this shopping experience was a great wall of puzzles and games at the newest shopping center. It was actually very pleasant to me to see such a stock of items that required interaction amongst the purchaser or the recipient. While my eyes don’t allow me much joy for a game or even the ability to puzzle out 500 pieces, I remember the fun that we use to have and purchasing some of the stock for our own gift giving was a blast. Well, hope the kids don’t read this. Now they know what’s under the wrapping.

The shelf already stocked…

Back to the tea cabinet, I went this morning and decided the green tea that was purchased last year had finally aged enough to use. I had a cup of peach green tea, and then later a cup of ginger green tea. I do like my ginger root. It’s still my favorite. I also pulled out past Christmas tea cups and hot mugs to use this time of year. I don’t know why, but we become such creatures of habit that I use my D handled mugs the most and forget about those old gifts from such thoughtful others.

The presents are not all wrapped. The three lists have been avoided long enough. My cup of tea is nearly empty. And Christmas is less than a week away. It will be a busy week and half and then the new year upon us. I started some writing plans for the new year. Why we do this kind of planning is sometimes a mystery to me. But I still do it nonetheless.

So this years work has been established, next years plans about to be made. And the delivery man just placed four boxes on the front deck for me to take care of. The larder in this situation is “things to write about.” The lacking at this moment is “thoughts of any substantial benefit to others.” And the shelves are all stacked in someone elses’ favor, i am sure. Oh, well.

There is actual work to be be had. Writing will keep until the next free time I have to sit in this chair.

Merry Christmas to all! And thanks for the noticing, Haha!

In your stocking feet

Wool, cotton, nylon or spandex?

Now is not the time to dilly, dally around. The weather outside is frightful indeed. Get some warm boots on or grab your furs, those warm socks will be full of snow and ice in no time, child. You get your shoes on by the time I count to ten and close that door. You’ll catch the death of ye, chillin’, what are you doing out in your stocking feet?1

Rant and rave all you want mother-mine, but sometimes a child has to get cold before they appreciate warm.

Where is your favorite place to be this time of year in your stocking feet? And how well do you like the static shock of wool socks? Do those spandex compression socks even work to keep your toes warm? Who wears nylon stockings to the knees anymore, anyhow?

While some prefer inside fur boots strapped into snow shoes or skies, I prefer the carpet. However, with the new trend towards hardwood flooring, I am more often then not sitting in a chair that leaves my stocking feet wanting for slippers. These floors aren’t that warm you know.

I haven’t tried walking a mile in another person’s stockings before, but even if the shoe does not fit, trying to understand where another person’s trials is still relevant. There are so many kinds of stockings these days. One’s for heart problems, diabetes, pregnancy, drug addictions, cancers, and the many different occupations that there are in this world. My mind is so analytical, I am always trying to see the other person’s point of view. But guessing where someone’s heart lies is the business of God.

In my stocking feet is how I spend the majority of my days. In the comfort of my own home next to my doggie. There are times I strap on my boots for a jaunt outside, but the inclement weather drives me indoors. So life here in the frozen land doesn’t seem like much of a wonderland to me. Except for me wondering every morning just how cold it is outside and how many layers I need to put on to survive without frostbite.

This week I’ll be sending greetings to our many friends and relatives through the mail. We started receiving the Holiday Cheer just after Thanksgiving. It is so enjoyable to gather these people near to us once more. One night at a recent supper outing, I wore a plush jacket that felt like a teddy bear. So I offered all the ladies I greeted a “teddy bear hug.” It was effective. I reached my quota of seven hugs per day that evening. I made the decision that I should become a new kind of super hero: Super Soft!

The cabin socks have found their way into our bedding. Even though we have flannel sheets at a wool blanket, and an afghan across the foot of the bed, that initial shock when climbing into bed is not so bad with socks on. So we sleep in our stocking feet also! My mother thinks we should give up the sufferance with an electric blanket. But I can sense the electricity coursing through my body and I just can’t handle that feeling. Being falsely warmed has always bothered me. I can’t handle sauna heat, or hot tub temperatures either. An electric blanket in the arm chair is so addicting that I would never get up and do anything. Give me a hot cup of Joe, or tea, or milk. That works better.

In your stocking feet you might find that you would rather be able to put your shoes on. In your stocking feet you might find a whole new appreciation for summer sandals. In your stocking feet you might be getting waited on while you would rather be serving others. In your stocking feet you might be relaxing with a good book by the fireside. Wherever your stocking feet find you, may you know the warmth of another’s thoughts towards you this Christmas season.

Take up some tea, Thank God for the post man bringing you those greetings one by one.

Hang the stockings

Tradition monition

On the first day of Christmas this year my true love gave to me…

A few hours of labor as he turned the frame of the closet door around so that the door swings into the closet. For the past 18 years it has swung into the bedroom and always been a source of “ouchies” for me. Since we are not big at hanging all of our clothing, we use a set of dresser drawers for most of our clothing, it just makes sense to turn the door in. Of course I did not think of this when we redid the flooring in the bedroom. So it was a bit of a trick to remove the whole frame in tack and replace it at a complete 180. We also did not have the queen sized bed and an extra large dog mattress taking up so much of the floor space. A third of a foot of floor space makes a big difference now. Thanks truelove!

This past week I learned it really is true that a rescue dog loves you more. My phone did it’s lovely update thing and now I have Googledrive photos on it. In one of the albums it has full collections of facial recognitions from the pictures I have taken. There is a full album of Seymour. He was the rescue dog that after two years of discovering so many familiy members were allergic to him, we re-homed to another family. He is happy. Many days I still miss him. He was very grateful and loving. It makes me feel like a traitor at times. But he walked away with his new boy with such confidence and solid affection that my guilt is gone quickly.

Honey does not take pictures well. I had to put peanut butter on my finger and hand onto her collar and threaten her with a hot dog stuffed with a pill just to get this picture. She does not like the phone. Especially when the phone is on speaker and the “ghost” of the person is in the room… She gets highly agitated and has to leave the house. She is highly demanding of attention and cannot bear to think why anyone will not do her bidding. Nevertheless, she has not become the service dog that I had hoped and instead I have become her servant-opening and closing the doors at her command.

Christmas is now less than three weeks away. We have the stockings draped about the base of the tree this year. In all my life there has never been a place to hang the stockings. We had wood stoves and brick walls behind them but they were for utility. Stockings are a fire hazard. The only time the socks were next to the stove was after my feet were frozen from doing paper route in the winter time. I would try to warm my toes and my wet socks and get the feeling back while hugging the heat that blew out from the underbelly fan on the stove. My husband, however, grew up with wide fireplace that had stockings velcro-ed to the bricks at Christmas. The stockings were not stuffed and they were not used.

While the girls were home, we stuffed a stocking. A store bought red velvet soft one was used to hold gum, breath mints, chap stick, and gift cards. Sometimes there was an orange, a pair of socks, or a pomegranate. But there was never a very good spot to hang the stockings. I tried the window sill, the china hutch, the book shelves, the railing on the steps. Why are we trying to hang the stockings by the chimney with care, if we don’t have one?

So this year I say…

Hang The Stockings!

I mean “hang the stockings! Christmas is going to have to be done OUR way. Why do I keep trying to do things the way other people do things. Where is the fun and joy of doing Christmas that way that I can do Christmas with what I have?


Here’s an example or two.

My dad put up Christmas lights on his new covered porch. My dad is blind. He has never decorated for Christmas. We never put up lights outside when I was growing up. Why did he have his friend take him shopping, and then hang the lights around the porch when he can’t see the lights? Because he is telling the neighbors that the spirit of Christmas is alive in him. The automatic timer tells his neighbors that joy of Christmas is for them. It is what he can give to the kids at the school that are leaving a basketball game. The twinkling of a lit porch. Giving at Christmas comes in so many different shapes and sizes.

My cousin does not have grandkids, but she works at a day care. She loves those kiddies and enjoys making crafts with them. Yet she is decorating her house for Christmas and having people over. She has not decorated for years, because no comes to see it. She decided to decorate for herself and her husband. Cleaning and finding room for the nativity and the tree. Christmas for her is new and fresh this year.

There is an elderly lady at my church (no names mentioned as there a quite a few of them). This particular one will not have any company over the holiday and will go to her granddaughter’s house in a nearby town. Yet she put out a little ceramic Christmas tree on her table in the window. Just to remind herself and the passersby what time of year this is… Christmas her own way.

So here’s my tradition monition: Hang the stocking and do Christmas to your own ability, in your own way. I am not an episcopal prophet or a Biblical nay-sayer, a seer, or a preacher. I am just telling myself what I should have told myself years ago. If you don’t have a fireplace or mantel, don’t hang the stockings. It just makes you and your hubby dear sad that you gave up the fireplace you built 22 years ago in the house that you sold SAD. Don’t remind yourself of what you Do Not Have. Think about what you Do Have.

Hang the stocking

Out on the washline

Use a clothespin

Or just nail it to the tree in the yard

Hang the stocking

Santa Claus only comes to town


That’s what the song says

Hang the stocking

Why should I care

Iffen we don’t do the Santa thing


Hang the stocking

As long as we can sit

At the table for a meal

To gather together and

Tell stories with laughter

Hang the stocking

Reading the story from Luke

And give up fairy tale flukes

Santa Claus is for the world

The baby in the manger is for me

Hang the stocking

Give up false hope

Put up true faith

Show off real love

–written this day December 6, 2019 by Yvonne Annette

P. S. I am really not trying to be Scrooge or bah, hum, bug! I am only trying to help myself get over the fact that life does not always hand us pretty pictures of “stockings all hung by the chimney with care.” This year my brother-in-law will be celebrating Christmas without his dad for the first time. My sister-in-law is walking through the valley with her dear sister. My nephew is still going through one monthly chemo treatments for brain cancer. My mom-in-law is wearing a neck brace because of a rare deterioration of the spinal column at the base of her neck. My little grand-baby is fighting the feverish flu this week. And there are so many other prayer requests that lay heavy on my heart. Life is messy. Sometimes it is ugly. But life is only what we have for the moment. Love the ones that you have to love. Do Christmas because God first loved us, by sending His one and only son into the world to show us His love. Believe the Christ of Christmas.

What child is …


This little hand has begun to do. The little sweet thing that only spent a few months being and being such a sweet thing at that, has now begun doing.

While someone watches…

Watching her take a little baby spoon in hand and practice holding it every which way-my eyes are just drinking it all in. I don’t seem to remember my own two girls doing this. Why was I so busy?

Grandchildren. Ahhh such blessings.

While the dough rises

First things first

This morning while I contemplated what the day should have in store for me, I remembered that someone in this house said that caramel rolls could be a daily occurrence at mealtime.  Seeings that it has been four days since the cotton-candy-like cinnamon roll melted across my tongue, I decided to get the dough going after the kitchen clean up.  So while the dough rises, I am thinking about all the quotes about bread.

While the earth’s voices can get you hooked on Panera bread, or sandwich shop commercials there is voice far more compelling.  Deuteronomy 8:3 comes in the middle of a narrative about the Israelites journey through the wilderness.  While I am not in a fourth year journey of desert land, there are days when I feel being blind and living in the country has given me a wilderness lifestyle that is akin to hermit living.  But if I really wanted to get the analogy correct I could say that I am stuck between the walls of a Sinai monastery.  But that’s pretty depressing.

Back to Deuteronomy.

When Jesus was in the wilderness for forty days, he was tempted three times.  The first temptation was food.  Issn’t that amazing? Most people find that it’s being alone that tempts them to eat the whole bag of chips.  Or the half-gallon of ice cream.  I’m not like that.  I’m one of those people that could easily forget to eat.  The day might stretch clear into the afternoon, before I realize that I haven’t had any lunch yet.  Food is not my driving motivator. Which is good, because I can’t drive, and I would probably going to every fast-food emergency food establishment at my hour of need.

“Man live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that proceeds form the mouth of the Lord.”  When bread is not the sustenance of the would, that what is?

This year at Christmas time, we were blessed to be ministered to by our daughter’s devotional from young adult retreat.  It was a three part letter that the Camp where she worlds sent out during the week leading up to the Christmas worship season.  While it was rather long, we did take the time to read each of the letter installments.  Her ability to lead us into the season in awe and worshipful reverence was such a blessing.  It’s that very thought provoking  devotion that made me think about my goals for the new year.

First things first.  Put first things first.

And the most important first thing in my life has been finding my sustenance in the words of our Lord.  Jesus is the bread of life .  He will be my everlasting manna during this journey into a visual wilderness that continues to make me feel lost.

When I look up to find a doorway or a wall instead of the way to where I thought I was going, I will remember that He is with me.  When the dog comes out of the darkness of my peripheral black hole, I will find solid in Jesus.  When my nose finally heels in its new crooked state, I will remember the brokenness that my Lord endured for me.  While Jesus set his eyes on the way before him, knowing that the cross lie in his path, this I will remember when my path is interrupted by an opened cupboard door.

Being visually impaired and on the journey to blindness, I will put first things first.  Though I refuse to use my walking cane in my own home, I will ask my Lord for grace to endure all the brokenness that comes from this journey.  This year the Bible verse that I chose to be our family’s theme verse is Luke 1:37.

“For nothing will be impossible with God.”

Dear Santa

Letter from Honey

Dear Santa,

This is me-Honey I’ve been a very good gurl this year. Mom says only very good girls get a visit from Santa. I love visits. Can you stop by to play frisbee? It’s my favorite.

This is my first Christmas. Well, this is my first year! Tongue wag- that’s a funny in case you missed it. Mom says I don’t know Christmas. Well-she’s wring. I know all about Christmas.

Let me tell you everything I already know. Christmas is “be careful of the nativity.” The Nativity is on the coffee table. It is figures of the first nativity. The first nativity was real. A real barn with real smells. A real baby with real cries. It is “be careful” and use a soft tail. “Be careful” is like “be nice.” Be nice is don’t bite. Be careful is kind of watch out. I don’t touch the nativity. I don’t bounce soft frisbee on the “be careful of the nativity.” It is what Christmas is all about. That first real one.

Christmas is also about the memory tree. Mom calls it a “Christmas tree be nice.” It’s not real. It has old smells. Smells of dust and cinnamon. I think it is a memory tree. There are smells of lots of different people on the tree. People that I have never visited. But they are they are on and in the tree. Mom calls them ornaments-pretties. Christmas is all about the memory tree and the people that visit. They send mail. I smell some of the same people in the cards that come.

One day I wanted to visit the people that I smelled on the tree and in the cards. So I got the postage stamps that mom gave me and tried them. They tasted bad. I wanted to help them come. I ate the stamps. I’m sorry Santa that I didn’t help the visitors with the cards and the smells from the tree get together. (The roll of stamps fell while I-mom was cleaning. I did NOT give them to her!)

Dad says I’m a very good girl too. So can I give you my wish list, Danta?

I wish I could help mom go visit more people. I like people. I like visits.

I wish I could have more frisbees. I love frisbees. Then I could leave them more places and me and Dad and me and mom and me and people that visit could always play frisbee.

Oh, and Santa? Could you please give me a new light up Christmas ball? This one broke. I think it broke back when the other dog had it. I know there were other dogs here. I smelled them too. Anyways? Could I have a new Chrisss ball? It’s my favorite. Cause Christmas is coming soon. I cam feel it.

You can share my cookies with Rudolph. He’s the one with the light up ball on his nose. He’s my favorite!

Thanks Santa. I’m glad you give us all a Neery Christmas. And “Be Careful of the Natuvuty- it’s what Vhrstmas is all about!”



(Yes, I know. We never celebrated Santa Claus with my girls. But recently the girls got to play a wedding with the real Santa Claus. He is the one that visits with all the kids before the holiday. Our local Santa is actually quite talented and plays piano beautifully. Yolanda played violin and Lennea played cello with him. They enjoyed their musical experience with him and are pretty sure that Honey would enjoy getting to play with Santa also!(