Oh! My! Goodness!

James is slowly disintegrating due to over 13 years of living in the elements. Bees live in him. Birds peck him. I am facing the fact that that soon he will endure his end and I want it to be in a certain manner. I have called the fellow, "Razor" who carved him for me as "The Spiritual Guardian of Cabin Tranquillity" in April of 2010. He is carved in the image of my Great Grandfather, James Marshall Folkner, but in a whimsical manner. I have left several messages to Razor for a consultation about how to handle James's last days.

Surprise! This morning Razor showed up. Unannounced. I looked out the window and saw him stepping back quickly and then realized that he was trying to avoid being stung! After several applications of bee repellent sprayed into every hole by my yard guy, they are still there! I quickly went out and invited him in to have a talk and develop a plan. Maybe, just maybe he can save the front with James' face and I can keep it indoors. The rest would be taken away. 

Razor, as he left said he had to go to the truck for a minute and he soon came back in carrying a replica that he made. The thoughtfulness and preparation for this gift overwhelmed me. It was so unexpected. It is so beautiful!  LONG LIVE JAMES!!

(October 1, 1914 was my mother's birthday. James was her maternal grandfather.)

Oh and I finished my clothespin angel picture! Her name is Pauline.

please tap image to view larger

Stressed Santa

  A Christmas Story

When four of Santa's elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones, and Santa began to feel the Pre-Christmas pressure.

Then Mrs. Claus told Santa her Mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more. 

When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were out, Heaven knows where.

Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the floorboards cracked, the toy bag fell to the ground and all the toys were scattered.

Frustrated, Santa went in the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered the elves had drunk all the cider and hidden the liquor. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug, and it broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.

Just then the doorbell rang, and an irritated Santa marched to the door, yanked it open, and there stood a little angel with a great big Christmas tree.

The angel said very cheerfully, 'Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?' 

And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.

(author unknown)