Twas the night before Christmas and all throught the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there,
The children were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of sugar plums danced in their heads
And momma and her kerchief and I and my cap
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter
Away to the window I flew like a flash
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave a luster of mid-day to objects below
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a minature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer
With A little old driver so lively and quick
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name
Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen
On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen,
To the top of the porch to the top of the wall
Now dash away, dash way, dash away all,
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricanes fly
When they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky
so up to the house top his coursers they flew
with a sleigh full of toys and St. Nicholas too
And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof
As I drew in my head and was turning around
Down the chimney St. Nicolas came with a bound
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot
His clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack
His eyes how they twinkled, his dimples how merry
his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly
He was chubby and plumb, a right jolly old elf
And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself
A wink fof his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work
And filled all the stockings then turned with a jerk
And laying his finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod up the chimney he rose
He sprang to his sleigh to his team gave a whistle
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle
But I heard him exclaim ‘ere he drove out of sight
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
Twas the night before Christmas and all throught the house
I really could not think of a better way to spend Sunday than with some music which stirs emotions for the heart and spirit. Enjoy!
By now everyone who follows my blog has heard the tragic news of the shootings in Newtown CT. There are no logical explanations for this event. Mental health professionals could give you a plethora of psychological diagnosis for the shooter’s actions; it doesn’t make the event any less horrifying. I can offer spiritual insight that will make sense but it will not ease the pain, anger or grief.
When the Columbine shootings occurred in 1999 I was working with a group of teenagers at my local church. We spent many Sunday afternoons discussing the Columbine tragedy. Even though the young people I worked with had never met any of the Columbine victims, they were still saddened, outraged, and frightened by the event. Many of you have children the same age as the children who were killed. I strongly suggest you try to shield them from the event as much as possible simply because of their age. Death is very difficult for young children, it becomes more difficult when those who have died are their age, little like they are, it causes them to realize how fragile they themselves are and that’s a scary realization.
Unfortunately, many children are going to hear and see news reports and when they do, they’re going to have more questions than you have answers. I learned this when working with the young people after Columbine. However, this time, the children with all the questions are much younger, so the questions are going to be much tougher. The 5 – 10 year olds are the ones who trust the adults in their lives to have all the answers to everything. My advice is this, if they do hear about Newtown CT and start asking direct questions, don’t lie to them, tell them the truth as gently as possible. Don’t be too graphic but don’t sugar coat it either. Just answer the direct questions with direct, simple, basic, answers. Do not change the subject or tell them they don’t need to know. As difficult as this seems, giving them real answers to real questions allows them to process the event without allowing their imaginations to take over and create monsters from the unanswered questions.
This is a very dark day for everyone. If you have children asking questions you have no idea how to answer, no matter what age they are, or if you have questions or need to talk this through, I will offer my services free of charge, just email me at firstname.lastname@example.org
I want to state that I love Halloween. I also want to be perfectly clear that I respect and celebrate with respect the Holy day of Samhain. So, while reading my ‘fun’ posts about Halloween, please don’t think I take the holiday lightly. I’m just having fun with it.
Today, is all about random fun facts, my silly musings and a poem from my childhood that I still enjoy. So, here we go . . .
The word witch comes from the old english wicce and the wicca were once highly respected for their knowledge and power.
If a black cat crosses your path but you don’t see it, will you still have bad luck? Are white cats good luck?
The first jack-o’-lanterns in Ireland were hollowed out turnips with candles placed in them to keep away evil spirits.
Seeing a spider on Halloween is believed to be the spirit of a loved one watching over you (I’m good then, I live in the desert, I see spiders just about every day 🙂 )
I’m named after the character in the Legend of Sleepy Hollow (Katrina Von Tassle) my father was reading the story and loved the name so much, he had me named about 2 years before I was born.
In my family the number 13 is thought to be lucky. My parents were married on the 13th, my daughter was born on the 13th, when playing sports in school William’s number was 13. (yes, I know 13 doesn’t have much to do with Halloween, I just threw this in for fun).
On All Hallows Eve (Oct 31) it’s believed the veil between our world and the spirit world is blurred. Masks were originally worn to keep the spirits from recognizing the living.
My family loves black cats and we believe when one adopts you then you will have good luck. We always feed stray cats too no matter what color. They are the guardians of the underworld.
When Thomas Edison died it is believed that Henry Ford captured his last dying breath in a bottle. (wonder where that bottle is?)
Tonight, when the last light is gone
And you’re almost too sleepy to yawn
Put your ear to the wall
and hear the thing crawl
but don’t cry
it leaves before dawn . . .
What’s your favorite thing about Halloween or even what ‘scary’ notion interests you the most? Happy Hallowe’en.
I wish I had pictures of this story, but sadly I don’t. However, it is 100% true, no embellishment or exaggeration.
I don’t blog much about my family mostly because they are either afraid of my gifts or choose to ignore them all together. But they are all good, honest hard-working country people. My brother, Matthew is six years younger than I am. The best way I can describe him is he looks a little like Garth Brooks (definitely that size), and his personality is a cross between Gentle Ben and Big Hoss. But with a tough side he rarely lets friends and family see (he’s a Federal Officer stationed at the Penitentiary in my home state). His wife, Pam is both beautiful and highly intelligent (scrub nurse supervisor at the local hospital). They have seven amazing, bright, beautiful, wonderful children (yes I’m prejudice, I’ve had the honor of being the first person to hold every one of my nieces and nephews at birth, after their parents of course). This arm of the family has taken the Brady Bunch and met Green Acres in the Appalachian Mountains, and there are many funny stories I could blog, but today’s is the most recent. So as told to me by my mother who witnessed it first hand here is what happened:
Feeding all these children gets expensive even with the good jobs my brother and sister-in-law have. They have abundant gardens every summer, so they freeze and can vegetables for the winter. My brother usually buys a beef every fall to freeze for the winter. In addition, this year he decided to start raising chickens. My brother’s degree is in Criminal Justice and even though he lives in the country; he knows nothing about chickens. He talk to a friend and neighbor who came over to help build a very nice coop and fenced area for the chickens. The first two arrived last week. The rooster is named Henry and the hen is named Mabel. All the kids are learning to help clean, feed and care for Henry and Mabel, even the baby boy (okay, he’s 5, but he’s still a baby to me).
Due to my brother and sister-in-law’s work schedules, the teenage girl across the hollow picks the kids up at school on her way home from the high school and they stay with my mom until Matt or Pam come home. On this particular day, Henry and Mabel were either excited to see the kids come home or bored in the chicken yard, because they flew out to greet the kids as they were coming up the drive. I told you my brother knows nothing about chickens and apparently no one told him you have to clip their wings. The neighbor girl knows quite a bit about chickens, so she told my mom and the kids they were on their own, she had no intention of being pecked to death if Henry and/or Mabel got mad. She went home.
My mom also knew better than to confront Henry and Mabel, she stood her ground about 100 yards from the coop while the 5, 6, and 8 year olds tried for almost an hour to corral the chickens back into the yard, but they just kept flying out. Of course, for the kids this was a mixture of funny and frustrating. They were laughing but the chore quickly became tiresome. Luckily, my brother came home from work. Which is what I think is the funniest part of the story.
Picture if you will, a very large, muscular, man wearing a law enforcement uniform (gun and all) chasing one rooster and one hen around an approximately 5 acre lot always just missing them. Always having them jump, fly, or scoot from his grasp inches from his hands until finally he throws his hands up in despair, walks away telling Henry and Mabel (rather loudly) he hopes the coyotes eat them because he’s done with them. At which time they both fly politely back into the chicken yard and wait for their dinner.
Yes, my sister-in-law helped my brother clip their wings the next day. Although I understand Henry wasn’t having any of it and his wings may not be clipped enough. Which tells you something about his personality and my brother’s timidity.
Happy weekend everyone!