HAPPY HOLIDAYS FRIENDS AND FAMILY 2007

HAPPY HOLIDAYS FRIENDS AND FAMILY!

T

he end of the year has approached us again,

But this year you all get to be filled in.

I finally get to write a letter like I’ve always wanted to do.

So here is my first year letter to you:

T

he year was joyous, as you know.

A baby was born one year and almost four months ago.

She has grown so much, cannot believe it now.

Larry and I have survived… Somehow.

Her hair is blonde and eyes are blue,

She gets her good looks from… you know who.

She took her first steps on mother’s day,

Now I can’t get her to stop to sit and play.

Teething was a struggle…and finally at 8 months one came in.

Do you know how long of a struggle it’s been?

By now she has eight,

And just two seconds ago is the last time she has ate.

She has an appetite just like her mama,

And just like me too, she is full of drama.

O

n November 16, 2007,

Larry’s sister and brother –in-law were blessed with a baby boy.

At 5 pounds 3 ounces, he looks like a baby doll toy.

Tarrah thought he was a toy until she heard him cry.

You should have seen her jump when she heard, she really touched the sky.

L

arry and I bought a new house, it’s an early Christmas present.

Now we have a mortgage instead of wasting money on rent.

The house is bigger for Tarrah to explore,

Bigger bigger bigger by so much more.

L

arry got a job at Broome Community College,

And I went back there to gain some more knowledge.

We are a busy bunch; you know how it is…

We barely have time that is just mine and his.

But we manage, and we get through,

We know its part of life, and it’s what we have to do.

S

o now, the Christmas tree is decorated, the stockings are hung.

Tarrah doesn’t know Santa is coming, she is still too young.

The mistletoe is waiting for a kiss goodnight,

Before Ashley, Larry and Tarrah turn out the light.

We wish you a Merry Christmas and New Years too…

As we sign off with,

From OUR family to YOU!

Santa’s Reindeer are on Strike:Can it be resolved before Christmas?

'Twas the night before Christmas but all was not well. The reindeer, Santa found out, had decided to go on strike!

They had heard on TV about a strike by Hollywood screenwriters and the recently resolved Broadway stagehand walkout.

So outside their stable, the reindeer organized. They made signs with catchy slogans, such as "Respect Reindeer Rights!"

Their demands: name-brand oats and herbal teas. Aromatherapy. Massages.

In exchange for their hard work of flying all over the world, they thought they should get spa vacations, reindeer facials and hoof pedicures.

They wanted daily yoga and step classes. And then they decided their stables were all wrong -- they needed feng shui!

One more item went on their list: They wanted better PR. If they only had agents ... After all, they were famous. It had worked for Rudolph; why not for the rest of them?

Outside Santa's Workshop, they picketed and chanted, "A stable united cannot be divided!" Indoors, at preliminary negotiations, the reindeer and the big guy literally locked horns.

"Oh dear," said Santa. (No pun intended.) "I must find a way for their gripes to be addressed."

He hemmed and he hawed, with no clue of what to do.

And then...

Santa called Mrs. Clause with his voice in such a frantic. “Mama, mama- the reindeer won’t stop! What do I do? “

“There is only one thing you can do dear.” Her voice settled with a comforting sound.

Santa knew what she was thinking. Had the reindeer been extra good, they usually got some imported lichen that they most certainly loved. But every so often, the reindeer got feisty and wanted some homemade apple-pie that was fresh from Mrs. Clause’s oven. Santa knew that reindeer couldn’t eat apple-pie. That was a preposterous idea.

But maybe, just maybe, this would work to end the strike.

He called into the winter air, he called them by name. He called them to the porch, this was no reindeer game. Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! Come on, Comet! Come on, Cupid! Come on, Donder and Blitzen!

It had to work he thought. He scratched his head and tugged at his beard. He waited by the window, “They won’t come!” His eyes widened, as mama opened the front door. They traipsed in, hoof by hoof, antler by antler, into the kitchen to a slice of freshly warm backed apple-pie.

The reindeer cheered and yelled in harmony, “We are so sorry. We just can’t stand all the talking of this apple-pie you do. It is so delicious, warm and sweet. The strike is off, there is no more you see. We will ride into the night and deliver presents to every Christmas tree.”

Poem for 2007 Winter Beauty Pageant

For the pageants, there is an "About Me" section that the contestant is to fill out, however, since Tarrah is so young, they ask that the parent writes something. I of course, choose to write a cute poem:

I may be small,
But don’t let that fool you.
My heart is big;
I will show all of you.
I love to sing and dance.
And so far in life I have been blessed.
I love my mommy and daddy,
They certainly are the best.
I’ll win you over
With my eyes so blue
And with my blonde little curls
I have too.
I have a couple pearly whites,
But they are quite hard to see.
The only people who can get me to smile
Is my silly family.
My smile is charming,
But to see it, is rare.
Usually I have a serious face
That tends to always be there.
I can be a cutie
And a little Miss.
I pucker up my lips
When mama asks for a kiss.

The Greatest Man I Never Knew: My Most Unforgettable Character

December 4, 2007

He never said he loved me. Secretly, I longed to hear them. These were the words I can’t really remember being said between my grandfather and me, although I am sure that they were said at some point during my life; probably when we said goodbye or something. I felt like my grandpa and I weren’t close. He favored my cousin Ryan. I know it was because he never had a son, so he treated Ryan like his own son, and I was just another girl in the family.

My grandfather was an amazing man though. He raised three daughters with my grandmother, and none of which were his. In 1960, he and my grandmother adopted two more daughters, my mother and my aunt. Five kids all together, none were his own, but he loved and raised each of them as if they were all carrying his DNA.

In my grandmother’s bedroom, there was a vent that overlooked the living room. My grandfather insisted that his red recliner be placed straight underneath it for some reason. He sat in his recliner all the time, with both

of his hands placed gently on the arm rests and his old frail fingers twitching as if it were uncontrollable by nerves. His face was weathered from many nights chopping wood for the fire and early morning’s deer hunting. His skin looked as if it were made of leather from the smoke that set in from the cigarettes he kept on hand. Brut slithered out of his pores like worms from their holes in a warm summer rain.

He was stubborn about his recliner. Never was bothered to move it for any reason. He bickered about dust falling on his head from the vent above. He’d shake his head, pat it off his hair, and go back to watching Lawrence Welk. I am sure he knew it was me making that annoying dust fall from the vent. It wasn’t because I was playing with it; I just enjoyed peering down at him from there.

I felt like I could bond with him from there. That was my way of being close with him, without him knowing. I couldn’t see much of him; just the top of his freshly cut gray and white hair that was squared off perfectly. That is where I felt love for him from afar. Where I whispered I love you… only because I was too afraid to tell him out of the context of goodbye. The greatest words I never heard, I guess I’ll never hear. Before I could tell him how I felt, he died. It’s been almost seven years since he has been gone. And now, all I can do is pray he knew.