Posted tagged ‘elves’

“We are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmastime.”

December 22, 2017

Just two days days until Santa starts his rounds. I’m figuring lots of elves are busy at the North Pole, probably no cocoa breaks. I was told Santa leaves filled toy bags all over the world as his sleigh can carry only so much. That makes perfect sense though I wondered if magic was involved so the bags were always hidden.

We didn’t have a fireplace. Our stockings were hung on the stair rail in the living room.  They were small red stockings with a white cuff. Each name was written on the cuff and the letters were covered in gold glitter. My sister Moe is the only one of us who has her stocking. I can’t imagine what happened to mine. I’d never throw away anything of Christmas. Anyway, back to no fireplace. My mother told us Santa would find a way, maybe the door or maybe the window. We had nothing to worry about: he’d come just as expected. She was right.

Around this time before Christmas, my mother put presents under the tree, ones from her and my father. My sister Moe was an expert at making holes indiscernible to any human eye. It didn’t matter if the present was for her or not. She just wanted to know what was in the wrapped paper. This peeking led to another skill developed over time. Moe can shake just about any box and tell you what’s inside. One Christmas, she and Rod, her husband, were headed to a Christmas party. Moe wanted something new to wear so the shaking of presents from my mother and father began. She found a new blouse then decided she needed to accessorize. She shook a few more boxes and found new earrings. Moe has given up the small holes, but she still shakes.

I put presents under my tree yesterday. They are from Moe and Rod. One is a book. Wrapping didn’t hide its feel, its shape. It was an easy guess; however, I will go a step further and guess the book is a new James Patterson.

I have lots to do today and tomorrow. I still need to do some baking, and I need to do the wash I couldn’t do the other day as I was out of laundry detergent. I thought that was wonderful but I gave in and bought some yesterday. I didn’t want to, but I did anyway.

Today is cloudy, dark. Rain is expected though most of the rest of the state will have snow. It is really warm, in the 40’s, though it will get cold tonight. The long range temperature is a snowy Christmas. I love that.



“Everything I buy is vintage and smells funny. Maybe that’s why I don’t have a boyfriend.”

December 1, 2016

Today is more than enough to make up for all that rain. Mother Nature is back in my good graces. The day is warm. I went to get the papers in a short sleeve shirt and wasn’t even cold. The sun is brilliant and perfectly framed by the blue sky. A little breeze has the brown leaves dancing at the end of their branches. I made a list of places to go today so I can enjoy the day.

The dog door is complete. Yesterday I ran into my friend and explained my problem with the plastic part of the dog door. His dog also has one so I figured he might have a solution. Washers! That was it, all I needed. I went to the hardware store and gave the man one of the small screws, asked for some with larger heads and some washers. He brought me both for the grand total of 98 cents. Two of the holes used the larger headed screws while the other holes needed the washers. Gracie has been in and out that door all morning.

It rained again yesterday, but I still went to do errands. Gracie needed dog food. That was enough incentive to get me out into the rain, but I did treat myself and bought lunch and some anise cookies. Life is good.

This week I will start decorating my house for Christmas. One side of my cellar is filled with bins of decorations. I have a whole collection of plastic lighted figures, mostly Santa Clauses. On the back wall are bins I haven’t opened in a few years. I’m hoping I can make my way back there to see what’s in those bins. I like surprises. Many of my decorations, like the Santas, are vintage and some are mighty ugly, but I don’t care. I think everything Christmas has an intrinsic beauty, even the ceramic angels, Santa mugs and really gross elves with scary faces. I was thrilled last Christmas to find out my nephew collects those vintage plastic lighted figures. He got a snowman as a gift last year. I didn’t know anyone else shared my taste.

That load of washing is still in front of the cellar door. Maybe I’ll get to it tomorrow. But then again, maybe not.

“I haven’t reported my missing credit card to the police because whoever stole it is spending less than my wife.”

February 12, 2016

Everything went well yesterday except for the lie. The periodontist told me I’d feel a small pin prick when he put in the novocaine. I nearly jumped out of my seat from the pain. I swear the needle was so large it went through one gum across my mouth to the other. I barely noticed when he gave me the next two needles.

The surgery itself was painless. I now have two holes in my gums, one in the upper and one in the lower. The dentist covered the holes with band-aids which were pink like bubble gum and had the same consistency. He said they should last a few days or even a week. The first one fell off about two hours after I got home. The second one fell off this morning. He’s right about the two holes. I checked.

The coldest weather of the winter will be here tomorrow. The day will be relatively warm, in the upper teens, while the night could get as low as -20˚. Sunday will be the coldest. Daytime temperatures are expected to be below zero, as low as -15˚. If I hear singing and see little people dressed in red and green dancing down the street, I won’t even question my sanity. I’ll just look for the big guy.

I think I should start a do you believe it crime story of the day. The Globe reported three men were arrested for armed robbery. They were quickly found as each was wearing a police ankle monitor.

The town where I grew up still has a weekly newspaper called The Independent. It was founded in 1870. My favorite part to read when I was a kid was the police blotter. It reported all calls to the police station including such police emergencies as a cat stuck in a tree, kids shouting to each other as they walked down the street and a woman hearing noises in her backyard.

The calls now are about real crimes like robberies, break-in and drugs, but I do have a favorite: “Veterans Lane street sign including pole is missing.” That one boggles my mind. How did no one notice the pole being dug up and taken away? This next one seems to indicate a lack of communication between town departments, “The blinking green light has gone out and must be replaced immediately as it is the traffic light of the fire station.” I’ll leave you with this one and the comment related to it: “Our neighbors’ back yard is filled with empty Pepsi cans. They liter in their own back yard as well as our back yard. It is outrageous and someone needs to stop them. Thank you.” The comment, by a man named David, also included a picture of two crushed cans. Beside the picture was this comment, “Too much liter.” I’m thinking he should buy it in 20 oz. bottles instead.

“We’re everywhere, out there, among you”

August 30, 2014

During the night I was so cold I got up and put on socks. By getting out of bed I disrupted Fern and Gracie who were huddled beside me. It seems we were all cold. An afghan solved my problem and I quickly got cozy and warm. Fern and Gracie each took a side, leaned against me, got comfortable and went back to sleep. That is the last thing I remember.

Today is one of those blank slate days when my memory drawer is closed tightly and can’t be opened. This second paragraph has had several lives, and each was erased when the trail led nowhere. I’m sort of stuck. I filled the bird feeders hoping a change of scenery would bring memories and random thoughts tumbling out of my head. It didn’t. I came back inside, sat here for a while then went upstairs and made my bed. Aside from my bedroom looking neater, nothing was accomplished, nothing came to mind. I then changed the litter boxes not really expecting any sort of memory flood but the boxes needed to be changed. I figured why not. I was upstairs anyway. I came back downstairs and am now in the same spot I have been most of the morning. I’m thinking next I’ll put the litter in the trunk for Monday’s dump run. Maybe the front yard will be a source for inspiration. If not, at least I did a lot of chores.

I caught the litter bag on the screen door and tore open a small hole. I didn’t know until I got to the car and saw a pile of litter beginning to form. Looking behind me I saw a trail of litter Hansel and Gretel would have had no trouble following. Luckily I use pine litter, not clay, so I don’t have to do any sweeping. It will become mulch. That was one exciting trip to the trunk.

I was always a kid with a great imagination who believed in fairies and gnomes and elves. Witches scared me. I think the witch in Snow White was the reason. She was diabolical. For a long time I thought any woman with a wart on her face was a witch. When we saw the movie we were really young, and my mother said my brother hid under the seat whenever the witch was on the screen. I watched. He wasn’t a brave kid. Even Santa scared him.

When we moved to South Yarmouth, the woman who lived next door had a few warts on her face. I had never forgotten about witches thanks to the one with the apple and the wart on her nose; however, I had long ago realized they weren’t real, but after meeting the neighbor and getting to know her, I had to reconsider.

“There are no miracles on Mondays.”

March 18, 2013

Monday has always been my least popular day. Because work started again, the horrific sound of the alarm jolted me from bed, disoriented me and made me bemoan my fate of five more days until the weekend. I was always tired on Mondays regardless of how much sleep I got on the weekends. I don’t work now, but I am still not fond of Mondays. The papers are thin. It seems there is never much news on a Sunday to write about on a Monday. I suffer from lethargy, not as severe as on a work day Monday but it’s still a lack of enthusiasm to do anything of substance. I keep staring at the laundry bags sitting in the hall waiting to go downstairs to be washed. This would be the perfect time for laundry elves who would leave my clothes cleaned and folded. I have to fill the bird feeders, a small task grown out of proportion by the day of the week. I’m already tired or maybe I’m just still tired.

It was sunny when I woke up, a strange phenomenon, but the world has righted itself and now it’s cloudy. A rain snow mix is expected tonight. We’ll have mostly rain, less than a half-inch. North of us will have snow.

I could do an errand today, but I won’t. I’m staying home. I’ll get it done tomorrow. Tuesdays are nothing days which have no innate negativity, no descriptions of any sort and no nicknames. Nobody says TGIT and hump day is Wednesday. Tuesday is the forgotten day unless we count monumental events like Black Tuesday or Super Tuesday. I don’t.

Yesterday I watched a baseball game. It was the Sox and the Jays. The Red Sox wore green hats and green shirts for St. Patrick’s Day. Lester pitched six great innings. I was envious of the people in the stands who were dressed in summer clothes. I hoped they were hot and sweaty. I am not above a bit of spite.

My coffee this morning was monkey poop coffee my nephew brought back from Bali.