‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through 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;
Night Before Christmas, Clement Clarke Moore
Kids, in a few hours he’ll be on his way!
Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. She’ll bring you cheer. Or darn, why can’t Santa bring me something like this for Christmas? I guess I have to do these things on my own.
Where’s the elves?
I like winter more than I like spring. I love autumn most, but that’s for another post. Check the archives.
When the days get shorter and the nights get longer, it feels natural. The quality of the light also is comforting. When the days get longer and the nights shorter, it is discomforting, and the quality of light is artificial.
From here on out, it will be an unnerving day to day existence until the awesomeness of summer.
I’m sitting at home waiting for the right time to head on over to the post office to pick up a package. I wish they would open at 8 am rather than a half hour later. I have to stay at work later than I would want to just because of the opening time.
In this day and age, the US postal service is a throwback to earlier times when letters were all important. Now, it’s just email, text, or IM. When will it be e-packages, text-packages, or IM-packages? Send my figures to my 3D printer so that I don’t have to wait so long.
Anywhoo, with the holiday coming up (9 days of shopping left), you better mail out those packages if you need them to get to their destination before Christmas morn.
“The worst thing that ever happened to me was on Christmas. Oh, God. It was so horrible. It was Christmas Eve.
I was 9 years old. Me and Mom were decorating the tree, waiting for Dad to come home from work. A couple hours went by. Dad wasn’t home. So Mom called the office. No answer. Christmas Day came and went, and still nothing. So the police began a search.
Four or five days went by. Neither one of us could eat or sleep. Everything was falling apart. It was snowing outside. The house was freezing, so I went to try to light up the fire.
That’s when I noticed the smell. The firemen came and broke through the chimney top. And me and Mom were expecting them to pull out a dead cat or a bird. And instead they pulled out my father. He was dressed in a Santa Claus suit. He’d been climbing down the chimney… his arms loaded with presents. He was gonna surprise us. He slipped and broke his neck. He died instantly.
And that’s how I found out there was no Santa Claus.”
Kate (Phoebe Cates), Gremlins
“Now, it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, except that it was very large. It is also a fact, that Scrooge had seen it, night and morning, during his whole residence in that place; also that Scrooge had as little of what is called fancy about him as any man in the city of London, even including—which is a bold word—the corporation, aldermen, and livery. Let it also be borne in mind that Scrooge had not bestowed one thought on Marley, since his last mention of his seven years’ dead partner that afternoon. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change—not a knocker, but Marley’s face.”
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
santa’s little helpers
Originally uploaded by rockymountainroz.
Dolls. They scare me. O_o
Happy Halloween! Oops. I mean Xmas!
Tick. Tock.
“Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it: and Scrooge’s name was good upon ’Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.”
A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens
