Tag Archives: Christmas

Christmas Traditions

H6Tradition is important in my family. Through our traditions come some of our best “stories.” For instance, my sisters and I ring the bell at church every Christmas morning. One of my sisters insists on adding a couple of minutes to the time each year.  We are now up to 22 minutes.  My husband took pity on us a few years ago and presented us with bell-ringing gloves. (Hemp is murder on your hands.)

Of course, that same sister is the chronicler in the family. The problem is, her candid shots – aren’t.  I put my foot down when she missed a shot of me opening an important gift. She wanted me to re-wrap it and look surprised when I opened it. I enjoy acting, but on Christmas morning?

Then there was the year that we went out to cut the tree (as we do every year) and our dog Nikki decided to roll in some animal droppings. It may have smelled good to her, but we were forced into a half-hour ride, in a closed vehicle, with a very smelly dog. Needless to say, she didn’t come with us the following year.

Speaking of dogs, I’m surprised Brandy (another of our well-behaved pets), made it through Christmas several years ago. One of my sisters was sick and couldn’t attend church. We left her on the sofa, and she had a pound of chocolates next to her on the coffee table. When we returned, each wrapper was in its place, but the entire box was empty. We unjustly accused my sister, but it turns out Brandy had a sweet tooth. 

And it’s not just the animals that have Christmas stories. We’ve had some Christmas Parties that would have made Mr. Fezziwig (A Christmas Carol) feel right at home, complete with pastry covered hams, unique games (It’s a Wonderful Life Trivial Pursuit) and my sisters and I lip sinking to “The Chipmunks.” (Yes, I lip sang “I still want a hula hoop.”)

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

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The Twelve Days After Christmas

Okay, as a romance writer I hope it never comes to this, but the song is very amusing. 12 Days of Christmas

The Twelve Days After Christmas

The first day after Christmas
My true love and I had a fight
And so I chopped the pear tree down
And burnt it, just for spite
Then with a single cartridge
I shot that blasted partridge
My true love, my true love,
my true love gave to me.

The second day after Christmas
I pulled on the old rubber gloves
And very gently wrung the necks
Of both the turtle doves
My true love, my true love,
my true love gave to me.

The third day after Christmas
My mother caught the croup
I had to use the three French hens
To make some chicken soup

The four calling birds were a big mistake
For their language was obscene

The five golden rings were completely fake
and turned my fingers green.

The sixth day after Christmas
The six laying geese wouldn’t lay
So I sent the whole darn gaggle to the
A.S.P.C.A.

On the seventh day, what a mess I found
The seven swans-a-swimming all had drowned
My true love, my true love,
my true love gave to me.

The eighth day after Christmas
Before they could suspect
I bundled up the
Eight maids-a-milking
Nine ladies dancing
Ten lords-a-leaping
Eleven pipers piping
Twelve drummers drumming–well, actually, I kept one of the drummers
And sent them back collect
I wrote my true love
“We are through, love!”
And I said in so many words
“Furthermore your Christmas gifts were for the Birds!”