Buffalo Gal

 We just returned from a one- day back and forth trip to St. Cloud where we brought our dear Grandkids back to their home.  The continuing "iffy" weather—-snow, blowing snow, icy compacted highways—–has made it rather "dicey" for getting them back to their Mom and Dad (and "Jobie" and "Bunners")      They were happy to be home again—–Granddaughter went right to Bunner’s cage and lifted him out expertly (getting a full grown domestic rabbit out of a cage is trick….the rabbit has sharp claws and does not hesitate to use them if not lifted properly)   You could tell that Bunners was happy to see her—-she is his primary care-giver and companion…..he snuggled under her chin and sniffed her over very carefully.  Her Mom had reported that in her absence, Bunners had been sniffing her clothing when he got the chance.  Cute!!!   Grandson immediately called his pal, Steven, and they had a good boy- conversation before Grandson got on his computer to check out the nerf gun sites and his games he has downloaded.  So life goes on normally at the home in St. Cloud and life has gotten very quiet here for us.    I will savor it this New Year’s Eve as my loving husband and I share a really "wild" celebration here.  (read: I am being snarky or being sarcastic–take your pick)    The evening plans include  jockeying for position on either the sofa (with soft pillows and soft blanket) or the recliner in which the winner gets to lean waaaaaa—y back and relax before the TV set.   If we are lucky, and stay awake til 11 p.m… we may even get to see the big ball drop in New York City as the New Year comes in one hour earlier than ours does.   We have already been "out to dinner" today: ….  went to Hardees in Sauk Center with the Grands on the way back to St. Cloud!!!!    I am about to put out a bottle or two of sparkling grape juice in the nearest snowdrift by the garage so our evening drink will soon be cooled and ready to sip.  We may even indulge in some peanut brittle or Andes mints tonight. (Woo-Hoo!)   Isn’t it an exciting evening so far????    What else?     I may do a few crosswords while watching the TV extravaganzas available on all channels originating in Times Square.  Last night I watched an interview with a lady named Kathy Griffin, of whom I had never heard… but she was FUNNY and teased the staid and slightly serious Anderson Cooper of CNN with whom she is co hosting CNN’s bring in the New Year celebration in New York. (Anyone named "Anderson" has a need to act staid, right?)   She was so merciless and so clever and so humorous, she had the dignified Cooper (at least he thinks he is)  blushing and pulling at his collar.  He kind of did not know what to say to her as she kept peppering him with requests to kiss her passionately at midnight in NY and some other  embarassing things he was not prepared to deal with.  That might be the one to watch later.

I spend a bit of time being pensive today on our travels to  and from St. Cloud.  I always do that when we drive somewhere different than our usual routes.  I was seeing the uniformity of whiteness throughout Central Minnesota…..very deep whiteness all over…..the landscape looks like it has been frosted with white seven-minute icing.  I always notice abandoned homes and farms and today’s was near Pelican Rapids in an odd spot on a bluff just above the highway.  It overlooked a small, beautiful lake…..and I tried to imagine what the little house would have looked like when it was newly built.  Today it is a caved – in wreck of stone foundation and collapsing logs.  The roof is totally down in what used to be the room, or rooms in the little house.  I wondered about the one(s) who built it and lived in it, obviously long before the highway was built.   It overlooked pleasant wooded terrain and the lake would have been visible also from its high perch on the bluff.  Perhaps one settler lived a solitary life there—-or perhaps a family with a dad and a mom and a family of children.  Maybe there was happiness erupting from the humble home at one time.  Maybe there was great sorrow with the death of a family member there.   Maybe babies were born in the tiny house and new life was eagerly welcomed by other children in the family.  The sun would have risen and shown into the little home through its windows facing east and also facing the shining lake on mornings long gone.  There was probably the sweet smell of coffee boiling on a wood burning stove and the smell of bacon frying….bread baking….stew or soup simmering on a cold day like today.   I always feel a certain sorrow when I see an abandoned home or farm.  One knows that there was once a time when the home was alive with people who loved each other and eked out livings from the difficult plains and woods in which these homes once thrived.  What stories the old abandoned homes could tell if they were able to recite the history of the lives lived inside them.

I also feel sorry for wild animals out in this bitter cold although I know full well they are adaped to such life in this cold land.  We saw a small band of deer feeding in the median between Interstate 94 near St. John’s University as the day waned and the bare trees cast their shadows over the  area where they grazed.  I saw furry coated horses—-two of them wearing special protective horse blankets on this cold day.  They seemed oblivious to the bitter temperatures also.  A flock of wild turkeys were furiously digging in a snow-covered corn field—a spot they obviously remembered from before the heavy snows covered the corn stubble.  They were big and had shiny feathers as they strutted in the snow and dug for their evening meal.  I do not think they have any sparkling grape juice bottles stashed in the nearby snowdrifts…..they have deep thickets waiting for them to go to rest (or to roost, more correctly said).

New Year’s eve leading up to the entrance of "Anno" 2009 is quiet where I live.   We will celebrate very quietly and very much to our satisfaction as we see another year leave and a new year come in.  Who knows what it will bring?     We are grateful for all the New Years we have been able to welcome and we welcome this year with joy and with anticipation of more blessings, blessings we do not deserve but are given as a gift, each New Year.  It might bring sorrow too but we know we must not flag in the face of such a prospect.  The year will be like all the others have been—-full of life, love, laughter, maybe some tears and distress….but life goes on and we all face the New Year together.

 We truly are in the deep dark of December….a satifying phrase that makes use of words beginning with the same sound….dark deep December.   As the sun goes down early each day far to the southwest of my home, I often start thinking about the darkest time of year. I found some poetry and some quotes that pleased me this afternoon and I am sharing it with you.   One lighter spot recently was the arrival of the second seed catalog…the first one came while it was still November.

First two poems that please me.    "I heard a bird sing/ In the dark of December,/ a magical thing/ And sweet to remember.   "We are nearer to spring than we were in September"/      I heard a bird sing in the dark of December."   (by Lover Herford)             And another one to which I hear the music of a not-so-familiar Christmas Carol:     "In the bleak mid-winter/ Frosty wind did moan/   Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone. /  Snow had fallen, snow on snow/ Snow on snow/ In the bleak mid-winter, long ago."

Then I found a quote that really spoke to my heart:     "From December to March, there are, for many, three gardens.    The winter garden outdoors…   the garden of pots and bowls in the house….   And the garden of the minds’ eye."

Oh yes—-I look out at the finally frozen row of kale I can see from my living room windows and remember its sweet tenderness in summer salads.  I can look out at the brown dry heads of the coneflowers and the black eyed Susan daisies, supported by brown dry stalks bending in the winter winds. I look at the garden spot that will bring tulips to life in late March and early April…I can already see in my mind the bright colors of the many tulips I have planted.  Then I look around me and see my own garden of pots and bowls inside,one holding a large red- leaved coleus plant that is also sporting, for now, a few sprigs of fake holly berries.  In the basement under the Gro-Light I have a veritable green oasis with the Old Geranium living out winter in her big pot waiting to be transplanted for the 12th year out into the summer garden; she is green and verdant and thriving under the lights.  There are Bette’s tropical plants and the spider plant she has entrusted to me while she spends 5 months in the tropics of Hawaii.  My own pot of saved Impatiens is blooming, and the several pots of grape ivy are sprawling over their pot rims as they also thrive under the lights.

Andrew Wyeth the famous and much loved American artist says this about winter:   "I prefer fall and winter, when you can feel the bone structure in the landscape—-the loneliness of it—the dead feeling of winter.  Something waits beneath it. The whole story doesn’t show." If you have ever viewed Wyeth’s paintings, you can sense his love of the fall and winter landscapes—many of his most famous paintings, such as "Groundhog’s Day" look out on a bleak winter landscape through the window panes of one of his Pennsylvania neighbor’s home.  Many of his paintings are in winter and fall colors—-browns, grays, the occasional brightness of a leaf fallen from a tree.   I love the bleakness of his art.

And Albert Camus said this:  "In the depths of winter I finally learned that within me, there lay an invincible summer."                That simple sentence speaks volumes.

And finally Ruth Stout—-a woman who must live a similar life in the country as I do, says this about Winter:    "There is a privacy about it which no other season gives you….in spring, summer and fall, people have an open season on each other;  only in winter,in the country, can you have longer quiet stretches, where you can savor being yourself."

Right now… in the deep dark of December, I am savoring being myself…especially on these snowy days of privacy and quiet when the snow falls and falls and piles up on the Spruce trees and the roof of my little cabin.

 All of us have gotten Christmas cards that say this "Peace On Earth" or something to that effect.   (a.k.a.  known now as "Happy Holiday" cards…Bah!Humbug!)    That message of peace on earth is an ancient one harking back to the message of Angels to shepherds "keeping watch  over their flocks by night." (second chapter of the gospel of Luke)   This was in the region of the Earth that we now think of as "The Holy Land" or "Israel" or ….historically, Palestine, as named by the Romans who ruled the entire Mediterranean regions in the glory days of the Roman Empire.  The original message of peace on Earth comes from Judeo/Christian scriptures….scriptures that became part of the Christian Canon of  New Testament books.  If one goes back into the Old Testament there are prophecies concerning a "Prince of Peace" who will come to Earth in the time of fulfillment.  Christian scholars have interpreted the coming of Jesus, earthly son of Mary and Joseph as that Prince of Peace….one of many prophecies fulfilled in what is now referred to as Anno Domini, year 1 ….or thereabouts.

And have we ever seen that Peace on Earth?    I should say we haven’t!!!!    When the Prophetic Fulfillment of the Prince of Peace was about 2 years of age, then-King Herod had all the infants in the town of Bethlehem  two years of age and under, slaughtered in his effort to not allow a Supplanter to his throne.  That was not too peaceful or too kind of that one King of the time.  All you have to do is read a bit of history of what is now Israel to see that there has NEVER been peace in that land, (or any other land on Earth, for that matter). Jewish resisters to the Roman rule took a stand at what is called the Masada—- a towering rock formation in the desert region of what is now in the Israel/Jordan areas.  The Romans besieged the rebellious Jews who were lead by Judas Maccabbeus and successfully starved them out..many of the Jews jumping to their deaths off the Masada cliffs instead of letting the Romans kill them.  It is  heroic saga in Jewish history to this day.  An even- sparse knoledge of history in that Mid-Eastern region allows us to know the many, many conquering nations  overran what is today Israel….predecessors of today’s Syria, Lebanon, Egypt, Jordan, Iraq (historic Bablyon)  and Iran(historic Persia and Medea) …all invaded and conquered at varying times.  Then came the Romans who suppressed what they called the Palestinian peoples (both descendants of Ishamael and Isaac, alike)  for decades and decades.  There never has been any peace on Earth in Israel.

Now we read of the Gaza strip fighting of the past few days…..as soon as Israel ceded Gaza to the Palestinians in 2005—a leftover agreement with the Clinton administration to do so—-the Palestinians began to fire rockets into Israel from Gaza and many Israeli towns and citizens were under constant attack, resulting in  destruction and death of civilians.   Just a few days ago, Ithe Israeli governent sent its warplanes over Gaza and did a good bit of destruction to their constant harassers among the Gazan Palestinians.  Of course, the terrorists of the Hamas- ruled government place their strategic targets right next to civilian sites—schools, homes, hospitals other public buildings so that when the Israeli warplanes destroyed the targets in Gaza here was loss of life among civilians—-the most natural outcome of any war any place, any time.  But to hear it told in the Press just a few days ago, phrases and sentences containing these words were repeated over and over in the so called reports:  "Women and children…"  "Toddlers"…….school age children…..innocent civilians……the Press only holds Israel responsible for destruction and never acknowledges the part played by the Palestinian terrorist under the Hamas Government, and also under the auspices of Hezbollah in neighboring Lebanon and Syria where the terrorist leaders have safe haven from which to plan their attacks on Israel….constantly and never-endingly.   "Peace On Earth"   Tell me another funny joke!

It is not surprising to me however that Israel is blamed for all the warlike actions that take place in Gaza or other areas of Israel and its neighboring countries.   It is simply the fulfilling of other prophecies —–of which the Scornful and the ones who hate both Jews and Christians will deny, deny, deny.    And that includes a LOT of Americans!!!!   Being totally ignorant of Jewish and Christian holy writings, they have made up their own "myths and fables" to suit their own scenarios where the struggle between the Jews and Arab peoples of the region are concerned.  Israel has almost no friends among the nations of the world today.  Only the United States has stood with Israel through her short history….from 1948′s birth of modern Israel to the present.  Even Britain…her other sturdy ally of the past is gradually turning against the Israelis.  France and other European countries have long ago turned against the small Jewish nation.   Fanatic terrorist leaders like the crazed president of Iran have publicly sworn to utterly destroy Israel.  That is also the goal of the Palestinian terrorists of Hamas and Hezbollah and other anti-Israel groups among the Arab enemies of Israel.

So there will never be "Pace on Earth Goodwill To Men" is the conclusion I  arrive at.  Speaking of Peace on Earth is like hollering down an empty rain barrel in my opinion. But there will come a time when Peace On Earth is a reality….but you have to read and believe the Christian scriptures in the final book of the New Testament to find out how it will occur.  There are also many references to this time of true Peace in the Old Testament prophecy books—-especially in the book of Daniel.   The Scornful will continue to scoff at such statements but many of them, to their horror, may live to see it happen…..and suffer the aftermath of the destruction in so many places before that Peace On Earth is established forever….and not by human efforts either.

I long for Peace On Earth—but I know it will never come by any Peace Treaties arranged by human beings…..not the everlasting Peace that Earth Dwellers long for, especially at this season of our year as testified by the messages on so many Christmas cards we receive.

Four of my "Red Lights of Christmas" are back—–4 grandkids had an "overnight" last night and all is still calm and peaceful.  Two (the youngest grandsons (age 11) are up but not active. They are seated together in the recliner watching morning TV and flipping like the nascent men they are.  Have you ever noticed how quickly the male person can flip from channel to channel???   These two 11 year olds have all the skills of "flipping" TV channels apparently  passed genetically, from grandfather to sons to grandsons.  Watching TV with a male (for me) is an excercise in confusion, frustration, and bad breaks in my powers of concentration (which are highly- honed).  I , as a female person, can become instantly interested and involved in something interesting on the Tube but if a Male Person has the control in his hand, the interesting story is soon gone, in the flick of a finger.  I have a retired friend who threatened to hide the TV hand control in the family freezer on the theory that her "flipping"  husband might not think to look for it  there.  The two grandsons have been flipping at dizzying speeds so far this morning.  The other two "Grands"…two of the 14 year- old girls are still not out of bed….all 4 of them had a late night last night….they did not go to bed before their grandparents’ usual ten o’clock p.m. times.  Who knows how long they stayed up?  I have not asked but I know that the girls were gabbing, one boy was watching a game on ESPN and the other was checking out his favorite website on the computer….a nerf gun site where he is enrolled as "Monkey On ‘Roids" and reads the posts by other nerf gunners as often as possible.    I have promised to make Swedish pancakes for the gang of 4 this morning and the batter is half-made…we just have to get those sleepy girls up and out of bed before I heat up the grill.

On another note involving children, a former highway patrolman from North Dakota has weighed in on driving age in North Dakota.  He feels the age of 15 is much too young to put teenage drivers out on the highways and I agree with him….more so  since the recent news of several fatal accidents involving very young drivers from North Dakota.  The Highway Patrolman has spoken out about his personal experience in being the first officer on the scene of car crashes where young drivers were in the car.  The horror of the injuries and death seen first- hand has made him an Advocate for raising the driving age in North Dakota and I can understand his viewpoint.   If I had seen the sights that he has seen …. being involved in seeing the crushed bodies in car accidents and many of them teenagers…. I would be an Advocate also. 

Young drivers at age 14-15, (the ages ND drivers are allowed to drive the lethal heavy machinery that our cars and pickups and vans are)  lack judgement and maturity when driving these vehicles down our highways and country roads.  Too often they are speeding; way too often in this modern culture of ours, they are talking constantly on cell phones, using blackberries (whatever blackberries are!)  and "texting" each other….all activities that should have long ago been made illegal for all drivers, no matter what their age.  Doing other things while driving seems to be some sort of a "statement" these days….(oh look at me multitask… and I can still drive!!!! )   I do not think so.  I wonder how many accidents have resulted from the "multi-tasking"?    Nobody—-teenager OR adult is capable of concentrating on driving while putting on makeup, eating a meal, talking or texting on a high-tech device, reading a book or newspaper—–can be a truly alert driver if they are doing other things besides driving.

When a too-young driver gets involved in a situation where they need to make a quick decision or make the right driving judgement and  make an instant correction in their driving, way too often they lack the skill or maturity to do it.     I realize that sometimes icy roads or other drivers make for a near-impossible mature action  but way too often a teenage driver is exceeding the speed limit out on our roads—–it is the nature of teenage drivers to feel instantly powerful when behind a wheel and driving way too fast in all situations.  The old highway signs that say "Speed Kills"  are true.   Driving too fast causes accidents in any,  and all situations.  A 15 – year old driver is not capable of driving 80-85 miles an hour down a highway—nobody really is capable of doing that, but teenage drivers lack driving experience.

I would be happy to see the driving age raised to age 18 all over the nation.  Even 18 can be too young, but it is way better than allowing 14 or 15 year olds to drive, as North Dakota allows.  I realize the genesis of such young driving ages…..farmers needed their teenagers to drive farm vehicles while helping with the work on the farms…..but again, 14 year olds driving big powerful farm machinery still lack that crucial quality—-judgement and experience.  I think it was a terrible mistake to extend driving priviledges to such young teenagers beyond the farm fields and small field-roads.

Young teenage drivers are unknowingly, the hidden "monsters of destruction" when they are out  on public interstates, highways, and two- lane roads.   When we tote up the death and destruction where too young teenage drivers are involved, it becomes plainly obvious that a serious mistake was made a long time ago when the low driving age was allowed in North Dakota.

The red lights of Christmas are starting to depart around here on the Buffalo Bluff.   There is a saying among grandparents of a multitude of grandkids…. that it is so wonderful to have everyone at home for a holiday,  but the best lights of Christmas are often when the red taillights of departing family cars filled with sons and daughters and grandkids drive down the driveway or away from a house!!!    Grandparents tire more easily than either their children or grandchildren–thus the origin of the "saying"!

Some of the "Christmas Leftovers" (not the edible ones) are black ashes in the woods where the 3 sons and their Dad had a campfire on Christmas night.   They hauled firewood and 4 lawnchairs down to "the crossing" in the woods east of the house and had a wonderful time staring into the glowing firelight and just talking , talking, talking, as fathers and sons love to do.   There are also  many tracks from sliding vehicles and snow vehicles for hauling the human sliders and their vehicles back up the Big Hill west of the house.  There are bits of tape stuck to the carpeting and small scraps of cheerful wrapping paper lying around as well.   I almost wish the ringing laughter and chatter between the Grandkids would somehow "freeze" in the atmosphere and thaw out so I could hear it again later.  That reference comes from a good Paul Bunyan tale about the Winter of the Blue Snow when it was soooooo cold that Babe the Blue Ox turned blue in the first place, and also when the lumberjack’s words froze in the air and the woods was filled, in the springtime with all the thawed out winter conversations!!!

I need a good nap today.  I got a short one yesterday and I have to confess that I opened my eyes this morning at 9:18 a.m. after falling asleep several times from early morning on.  Our one daughter- in- law and two of the older granddaughters that have jobs during the Christmas vacation times, left yesterday…the first to go.   Now son # 3 is on his way home to St. Cloud.  His two children are staying with "Gramma and Gramps" until Tuesday but Granddaughter Katie has a sleepover planned for New Years’ Eve, with her best friend, Fiona and two 14 year- old girls LOVE having sleepovers… so we must deliver the kids back to Wadena or Sauk Center to meet the Mom or the Dad or both by Tuesday.  This is routine when the St. Cloud "Grands" stay with us—we meet at a half-way point and "exchange prisoners"…which sometimes includes the family dog, the Hyper-Sensitive and Neurotic , Jobie the Dachsund (I love that little dog so much!!!)  "Bunners" the family’s gray Mini- Rex rabbit will be waiting at home for his kids who love him and care for him when they are at home.  Mom had to care for the pets while Dad and the kids visited the farm (Mom had to work yesterday so only the 3 came here for a couple of days).   Son # 1 and his remaining daughter (the one who does NOT have to work at a part time job) will be leaving in an hour heading west to Bismarck.  We are all a bit tense about the icy rain that coated Interstate 94 out to Jamestown last night, but plans are afoot for driving very slowly, if necessary, past Jamestown.   Second son who lives with his family in Fargo is here with two of his "chicks" while the third grandson is away at a winter camp near Duluth for a few days.  The Mom is at home with Otto, the other beloved "granddogger".  Then, when the last of the troops head down the driveway, showing the final red taillights of the past Christmas weekend,  Grampa and Gramma will be alone. 

I remember the final line of my first "declamation" in the mid 1950s when as an 8th grader I "declaimed" a humourous reading called "The Father of the Bride".  It was the story that has been made into at least two movie versions recently, with 2 varied casts of actors and actresses….I remember that Spencer Tracy was the first "Father of the Bride" and Elizabeth Taylor was the "bride-daughter".  The father’s name is "Stanley Banks" and the last line that I had in my humorous speech from about 1953 concerning all the departed wedding party and wedding guests:    "And Mr. and Mrs. Banks were left—–with the wreckage."

I love my kids and grandkids so much I cannot even describe how much……but we are sort of being "left with the wreckage"…….but…. we are retired and do not have to clean it all up at one time—–I may leisurely spend the next week….cleaning up the "wreckage" from the fine, fun-filled, family-oriented, most- blessed days of Christmas, 2008.  We are so grateful for the gift of another Christmas when all our sons and their familes could spend it with us at our farm… high atop the Buffalo River—-now a frozen silver ribbon running through our woodlands.

The red taillights going down the driveway mark the end of a good family time and I think we made even more memories for the "Grands" this year!!

For enquiring minds, (like GramMary) the cucumber was duly and beautifully wrapped in lovely Christmas paper, tied with a fancy green bow, and delivered by all the "santas" (grandkids) to him on Christmas Eve!    He grinned as he unwrapped it and said, "I was thinking something like this was coming!"  Anyway it was a good joke for all the family who did not know the "cucumber wars" that had been going on.   I expect to "get it back" in some diabolical scheme that is now turning over and over in a certain person’s mind.

I know I have heard the term "Old Christmas" and this morning, out of curiosity, I looked it up.  The true meaning of "Old Christmas" comes from traditions in more than one culture but it all goes back to the celebration of January 6—Epiphany Day in Christendom..the day on which tradition says the 3 Wisemen arrived in Bethlehem to worship the newborn King, Jesus Christ.   Some cultures, including my own Norwegian background, celebrate "The Twelve Days of Christmas" from December 25 to January 6.  My father’s family used to celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas by doing only the necessary daily chores but spending the rest of the days visiting neighbors, who took turns hosting each other in the countryside east of Barnesville, MN.  My Dad joyfully recalled the fun they  had on these special 12 Days.   January 6 is called "Old Christmas" by many cultures including Europeans like the British, Scandinavia, Greece….it is even celebrated on other continents and countries that are made up of mostly Christians.    

December 26 is also the begining of a more modern holiday called "Kwanzaa"which is celebrated by African-Americans.  There are twelve principles laid our for the Kwanzaa holiday and feasting and festivals are also observed.

December 26 is "Boxing Day" in England and its Commonwealth nations of Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Ireland, Scotland and Wales.   Boxing Day sounds like a day for formal fights inside a boxing ring but it comes from an old tradition of giving gifts and food to needy people by those of the wealthy class in England.   It is also a day for giving gifts to employees from their employers.    The source I  read said it this way: "It is based on the tradition of giving gifts to the less fortunate members of society".   Contemporary "Boxing Day" is now often observed as a day of shopping….that would be what most Americans do on December 26 if they do anything special—-shop for the big after-Christmas sales.  I have almost always, my whole life, gotten a new coat or a new jacket on Dec 26 at a reduced sale price.  I also used to go out and buy my next year’s Christmas cards and gift wrappings on December 26.  I like the old tradition better—giving gifts to those who are less fortunate. It would be a great day to write out a generous check, if you are able, to something like the local Salvation Army organization or the New Life Center or other similar charities which care for homeless people.

Part of our family is still here so our December 26 will be devoted to eating up leftovers from Dec 24 and 25  and more sliding down the snowy hill that is perfect for whizzing down on a sliding vehicle.     It is a relaxing day here.  (I am still in pajamas after 9 a.m.)

 Somewhere in my collection of music—pretty much all vocal music since I am a pretty poor excuse for a piano player…there is a book of 20th century Christmas Carols by written by a man named Alfred whose last name I cannot now dredge up.  He is the one who wrote "The Star Carol" a beautiful contemporary song that I remember the Lennon Sisters singing at a Christmas long ago.  The first song in this  songbook of mine is one that begins "Caroling, Caroling, now we go, Christmas Bells are ringing"……   When I was the director of a childrens’ choir many years ago, we sang this one at Christmas and it stays in my "head" playing itself back like a memory tape that only needs to be triggered by some signal at Christmas time.

Last night (Dec 24) we had two of our grown up sons and their wives and children—-6 grandkids last night, here with us for Christmas Eve as well as my retired teacher friend Fran who is part of our family also on holidays.  I had typed on my word processing function, the words to several of the most familiar old Christmas Carols— the ones I love best that I learned all the verses to when I was in Sunday School many years ago.  We sang them all at our annual Sunday School programs.  I can still sing all the verses if I get the first words of each verse to get me going. Amazingly most of my grandkids know the same Carols as I knew them as child, and that makes me so happy!   I also remember having a song book of the old familar Christmas Carols when I took piano lessons and I enjoyed sitting at our old upright piano in my childhood home playing and singing lustily these old Carols.  I learned to sing alto harmony from doing this each Christmas season.  I also sang Christmas Carols whenever they were needed,  to put my baby sister to sleep in her baby buggy.  She was a colicky baby and my poor Mom was worn to a frazzle from having a fussy baby who would not sleep for more than half an hour at a time the whole first year of her life.  So I, being the Big Sister would put my baby sister in her buggy, get out the book of Christmas Carols, attach my Dad’s hunting suspenders to the buggy and proceed to sing the Carols—all the verses—while I kicked the buggy so it rolled to the end of the living room and then, due to the hunting suspenders, come rolling back to me where I sat singing in an easy chair in the bay window!  My little sister would fall asleep on this rough ride, listening to my voice belt out the Christmas Carols at any time of the year.  Once I carelessly let the buggy go off course and it bashed into another piece of furniture and woke up the baby.   I got back to the buggy, suspender, kick- and- return routine, loudly singing "O Come All Ye Faithful" or another familiar one and she would drop off again and sleep for awhile so our poor Mom could get some work done… like the piles of laundry that stacked up in those days.

Last night I was determined that all of us would sing the familiar and best- loved Carols together so after our big meal and before we passed out the presents, I handed out the song sheets, got my electronic keyboard from upstairs and set my daughter- in- law down–she who plays piano so well— to accompany us.    Then I turned off lights and had all the candles on the first floor lit as well as the Christmas tree lights and the other lights of Christmas that I have hung all over the living room and dining area.  It was so beautiful.   So "just perfect" in my mind —just like Christmas Eve should be in an IDEALS magazine.  I even have red poinsettias all over the rooms.  It couldn’t have been better. And my 13 member family sang them all—in four- part harmony; it sounded like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir —only better!   The sons and father have voices that are so "genetic"  that they sound like one voice.  The only one missing was son # 3 who came today with his family.  We should almost do it again tonight but a few have gone home to Fargo as Grandson # 1 is going to a winter camp tomorrow and has to get a decent night’s sleep after our "3 Big Kids"…ages 20, 17 and 16 spent the night last night having fun, fun, fun, catching up on what the Big Kids like to do and say and watching a DVD movie til midnight so they did not get a lot of sleep!!!! Instead, the remaining grandkids(5 of them)—are eating ice cream and watching a movie on TV and resting after a vigorous day of sliding, and playing "tackle" football in the snow–all of them heavily padded in snowpants, warm caps, jackets, boots and big mittens so they looked like the proverbial Charlie Browns falling down and not being able to get up. They watched "The Christmas Story" earlier today with Ralphie, who wanted his Red Ryder BB gun so badly but "would put his eye out" if he really got one.  I love that movie!  I have to watch it soon myself as I have been too busy to sit down and do my annual viewing of it. Fortunately I have the video movie of it and can watch it at my leisure.  It is from "my era" of childhood so I love to see the setting and the clothes—-just like I lived it back then.

So with the memories of "O Come All Ye Faithful", "Hark the Herald Angels Sing",  "Angels We Have Heard on High", "  "The First Noel"  , "Away in a Manger" ,  "Joy to the World" ,  "O Little Town of Bethlehem" and "It Came Upon A Midnight Clear" singing in my brain, I conclude Christmas Day blogging at the computer and hoping that all those who read this  had a happy and satisfying Christmas with their Loved Ones, as I am still having tonight!!!  As Tiny Tim in Dicken’s famous "Christmas Carol" said at the end of the touching story— "God Bless Us, Everyone"!!!

It was late Fall of 1993.  We had some first snowfalls already and it was getting deep enough to  shovel off the driveways and sidewalks.      One night, watching the ten o’clock news (through our toes) in the bed, we heard Marv Bossart, the long time Anchor of news on WDAY have a conversation with his co-host about needing to shovel snow already.  Marv said in his wry humorous way, "I am going to have to get Betty a new snow shovel".

I turned to my husband and said "If Betty Bossart gets a new snow shovel, why can’t I have a new one?—the old one is getting rusty and icky".    I meant this as joke but my guy got other ideas racing around his brain that night.

On Christmas Eve, our son from Fargo and his wife and one little grandson joined us for Christmas Eve.  Our oldest son and his wife and two little girls were also with us as was a young couple, newly married, who were friends of our Fargo son.   After our big Christmas Eve "supper"  (Norwegian terminology) we sat down in the living room to pass out the gifts.    I was preoccupied with watching my little grandkids then—they were about 5, 3, and 2 at the time and there were only 3 of them in 1993.  My parents in law were also with us that night so we had a pretty good crowd assembled for gift opening.    I did not notice when my husband disappeared for a few minutes, but when he came back in , to my surprise, he was carrying a brand new, shiny scoop- snow shovel with a big green bow attached to the handle which also had my name emblazoned on it in permanent black felt-pen ink. (the name is still as plain today as it was on Christmas Eve of 1993. )    I do not know if Betty Bossart actually got a new shovel that year—-but I did.  I wrote to Marv B. and told him how we had responded to his dry humor about Betty’s new shovel.  I got a nice letter back from him, appreciating my husband’s humor ….and my brand new snow shovel.

I still use the snow shovel to this day—-I was out shoveling with it yesterday and I appreciate the gift shovel as much as I did the Christmas Eve I got it!!!

I have tried to edit "Berlioz teh BEAT out of my real blog but it won’t work.  It IS Berlioz teh BEAR

 We have a bear named Berlioz.  He stands by our back steps and greets everyone who comes to the door.  Berlioz is a wooden bear, artfully sculpted with the delicate motions of a chainsaw held in the hands of our friend Gene H.   Gene began chain-sawing bears a few years ago and gifted us with one of his creations.  He told us every bear has to have a name and if we did not name it, he would.  I immediately thought of one of my favorite childrens’ books by one of my favorite authors and artists…Jan Brett.    Her book, BERLIOZ THE BEAR is an amusing tale about an orchestra of bears on their way to the village’s gala ball where they will play for the dancers.  But Berlioz gets distracted from driving the mules pulling the orchestra’s wagon and puts it in the ditch and gets stuck.  After a billy goat, a cat, a rooster, a plow horse and an ox fail to get the wagon and the musicians out of the ditch…things are desperate as it is almost time for the gala ball in the village.  In town, all the animals have gathered for the ball, but where is Berlioz?    Anyway I thought that Berlioz (obviously a takeoff on the REAL composer, Hector Berlioz, was Jan Brett’s motivation for naming her bass playing bear, Berlioz.   Our bear is named for Jan Brett’s bear.

Tonight our Berlioz is wearing a necklace of mini- Christmas lights and is thus "lit up" (thought I had a drunken bear, didn’t you?)  Nope, he is wearing a string of lights and he looks marvelous.  His ears get in the way of my dressing him up in a Santa hat so he is going to have to tough it out, bare-headed , or should I say bear-headed?

In other news of family animals, the Cat is pretty ticked off with me because I forgot her in the garage yesterday for a long time and she was pretty cold and pretty mad when she got back in the house.  She has been moping all day and napping…I suppose spending time in the cold garage was pretty wearing on the Princess.  She has a shelter in the garage but that did not keep her from getting miffed about it all.  She has been avoiding me all day, just in case I get forgetful again and she should be in the garage.  She has cashed in on my guilt and pity and apologies and has had two dishes of chicken breast pieces so far, plus a small saucer of milk.  She is still not speaking to me though.  I have to do more penance.  I wonder if a hair shirt on me would help the situation?

I am pretty much ready for tomorrow’s invasion of kids and grandkids.  The light snow today has put our sliding hills in wonderful condition.  Now if the temperature doesn’t drop too much the "Grands" are going to have a grand time slippin’ and slidin’ down two good hills.