#83-OH CHRISTMAS TREE; OH, Noooooo, THE CHRISTMAS TREE!

When I was in high school (late 50s) my mother (ignoring Dad's vociferous protests) bought us a REAL tree.  Up to then we had had a series of really BAD silver tin-foil trees with an annual changing of the color of the ornaments to be used.  One year they were a horrible magenta!

I was delighted that we were going to have a REAL tree.  Mom even had it flocked with fake snow.  It was a magnificent tree!

However, (yep, you knew the however, was coming) what she failed to consider was the budgie cage filled with 6 young parakeets.  Our loving couple had blessed us with 8 eggs that fall, 6 of which hatched into adorable little trouble-makers.  We thought it would be cool to watch the process but, hadn't a clue as to the problems we were inviting into our lives.

The first thing that happened is that the male (Sam) dropped dead a few weeks after we purchased him a beautiful yellow mate (Samantha).  Apparently, we had waited too long to get him a mate.  He couldn't handle the stress.  I guess he knew what was coming as the brood that hatched was a real rowdy bunch.

One day, one of them figured out how to open the cage door (my mother swore that I left it ajar after feeding them) and the whole lot escaped (except for Samantha, who was glad they were gone).  I heard my mother yell, "Noooooooo! Nooooooo! The Christmas Tree!"

I rushed into the front room to find her shooing the flock from her precious tree. They were busily plucking off the flocking and pine needles.  The front room was more flocked than the tree.  Thank God my mother didn't have a gun because she probably would have shot the birds, me, and then herself!

By the time we caught all 6 (took about an hour during which time my mother was uttering all kinds of obscenities) the poor tree looked a little sad.  There was white flocking and pine needles in every part of the house.  My mother was livid.

The next day the parakeets were gone (all of them) cage and all.  I never had the courage to ask her what she did with them.  I had visions of her taking them to the Chinese restaurant at the shopping center  down the street (Sorry, was that not politically correct to say?).

We went back to fake trees the next year.  A green one this time!

kt2010

#82-WOOPS!

FOUND THIS WHEN I WAS LOOKING FOR NEW YEARS VIDEO'S

I THOUGHT IT WAS HYSTERICAL!    

kt 2010

#76-THE PARADOX OF CHRISTMAS

GREAT CHRISTMAS VIDEO - IT KIND OF SAYS IT ALL!
"THIS SEASON IS TRULY ABOUT THE GIFT THAT YOU HAVE ALREADY BEEN GIVEN."
kt2010

#74-THE LAST SANTA

Before you get started I want you to know there are “spoilers” for those of you who may still BELIEVE.  So don’t read any further.

I was in the second grade the fall of 1949, and I had a horrible revelation foisted on me by a mean classmate at school.  My parents found themselves with a hysterical child, ranting on and on about a stupid boy and his stupid ideas.

I was VERY angry because he had snidely said,” Only BABIES believed in Santa Clause."  This boy was a “know it all jerk” and made my life miserable for the entire day. 

I was extremely upset, but what I did not realize at the time was that Mom and Dad were devastated.  I was too young to be robbed of this beautiful concept.   They weren’t ready to let their baby grow up.  By the end of the day they had hatched a plan to thwart this young man’s intentions.

The first was to have a conversation with the young man and his father.  Since my father was the Superintendent of that school district, this was a sobering event for the bully and his dad.  I was never bothered again.

The second strategy was what ended up being the most memorial event of my young life.  They set out to PROVE that Santa did indeed exist! 

Mom and Dad told me this story several times over the years and now I am sharing it with you.

On Christmas Eve it was snowing and we went about our usual tasks of setting out milk and cookies after figuring out the most likely place for Santa to get into our second floor apartment.  It was finally decided that he would probably come in through my bedroom window because it overlooked the roof of the grocery store next door.  Cookies and milk was set on my nightstand and the window was unlocked so Santa could easily gain entrance. 

I will never forget what my eyes were awakened to the next morning.  It was cold in my room because my window was slightly ajar.  There was snow accumulated on my windowsill and footprints made of snow just below the window on my rug.  The footprints led off into the front room and were slowly melting from the warmth.

I bounded from my bed and bumped into my parents who were standing there pointing out the window with amazed looks on their faces.  I turned and looked out the window and THERE on the rooftop of Shindlers Grocery Store were the long straight marks of Santa’s sleigh and tiny reindeer tracks. 

Just outside and below my window was a large round place smoothed out where Santa had obviously set his large sack of presents.  I WAS ESTATIC!  It was the best Christmas ever and turned out to be my last because other kids were determined to make this BABY grow up on their timetable not my parent’s.

What I didn’t hear that day was my mother gasped as placed her hand over her mouth.  What I didn’t see was that the sleigh tracks came across the roof and drove right past (over) a chimney in the middle of the roof.   Dad in his frantic early morning effort, with a closeline pole, had failed to notice the irregularity.

Nevertheless, it had the desired effect and proved to be one of my favorite stories to be told each Christmas.  Their expression of LOVE was the best present I could have received.  Christmas is supposed to be about the expression of LOVE.  I think that a lot of the people in this world have forgotten that.
HAVE  A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE !!!

kt 2010

#69-MOTHER KNOWS BEST

Maida Taylor
at age 88

My mother (God rest her soul) coined this phrase: 

                  “The whole world conspires to annoy me!”

When I watch the news or pick up a newspaper I REALLY identify with her words.




kt 2010   (Miss you Mama!)

#51-PUTTING TEETH INTO THANKSGIVING

My mother (God rest her soul) was a real card!  I guess this is where I got part of my _____ (I don’t really know what word to put in here, and you can bet that I won’t ask my son-in-law).

I think I got my sense of humor from my dad’s side of the family (English and Swedish).  Most of my memories of them are filled with laughter that always accompanied visiting them.   There was laughter on my mother’s side of the family too (English and German).  But the German influence of my great grandparents stifled the gene pool, a little.

Where was I?  Oh, yes, I was about to tell you about  a Thanksgiving dinner at my Aunt Marjorie’s (many years ago).

Mom had a partial plate to fill in where ….well you know.  She was very fastidious about cleaning it (definitely a German trait…fastidiousness, that is).  She was not so fastidious about where she put it, once clean.

I was over at my parents’ house watching my mother bustle through the house earnestly looking for her partials (teeth).  She was muttering the entire time.  Her search took her to every nook and cranny of every room.  She came up empty.  Finally, she threw up her hands and said, “Ok, lets go, I am never going to find them.”  Then she said, “I’ll just keep my mouth shut and not talk.”  Well, that caused guffaws from both my dad and me.  You see, I definitely know which side of the family my verbosity comes from.

Now, picture an idyllic Thanksgiving table with about 10 family members sitting around it passing dishes and salivating.  Aunt Marjorie was one of the best cook in the family (although related I did not inherit her skill….see blogs #29, 35 and a future blog entitled FROM THE FRYING PAN INTO THE FIRE). 

Suddenly, Mom yelped and jumped in her chair.  She then reached into her bra and withdrew her teeth and loudly exclamed, “There you are!”  All eyes at the table were instantly glued on Mom.  She looked up, smiled and said, “They bit me!” and then popped the partial into her mouth.  The laughter coming from that house could be heard for miles.


kt2010

# 30 - COSTUME QUAGMIRE

      


    In the 80s I was a single mother living in Southern California.  I apparently needed to make it up to my children, for them to enduring having only one parent.  I was determined to be a SUPER mom and went out of my way (and into the wee hours of the morning) to insure that they weren’t short changed in the parent department.

                                                  One of my,  MANIC, projects was Halloween costumes.  They simply HAD to win a prize at the local parade.  Somewhere in September I would begin the CRAZED activity aimed at achieving MY goal.

           Old sheets came out of the closet, paper mache materials were accumulated, poster board and other items were purchased.   The various paints and markers came out of hiding.  The apartment began to take on the appearance of  the back streets of Tijuana . The kids would ignore the flurry of activity as, by now, (YEARS) they were used to my CRAZY projects and all the clutter and CALAMITY that went with them.  My poor son bore the burden of my creativity.

DISNEY'S "TICK=TOCK"
          I loved paper mache' however, I failed to realize the weight involved.  Like an idiot, I covered the mache' head with plaster of Paris so it would be stronger.  The head of my son's first WINNING costume was so "nose heavy" that he kept falling over forward.  After he fell head first into the bushes, and over onto his hands/knees (and over a witch, a bear and a ghost) he finally got the hang of it.  He had to walk with his hand holding up his snout.  Poor kid had a sore neck and arm for days.  He also lost part of his tail when a robot (deliberately) stepped on it.

THE BIG PUMPKIN

         The head of my son’s second WINNING costume was so large that he couldn’t see out of the holes which caused all kinds of interesting accidents.  One of which was stepping off the porch and missing the steps.  He ran over his sister several times, and complained about the echo making him go deaf. He finally  had to hold onto the head (with both hands) in order to position the holes just right.  More sore arms etc.  Not once did he call me a lunatic (well, I couldn't hear most of his comments under the pumpkin head).

CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON

          By the third WINNING costume I finally got it right.  It was perfect and my son’s favorite costume. The paper mache head was only a partial skull cap and eyes.

However, (and you knew there would be a however, didn't you) people kept stepping on his flippers (and without the enclosed headpieces as before, one could hear that the what had first sounded like just grumbles were actually cuss words).          

      


              My daughter was easy.  She liked princesses, angels and clowns.  With the sewing machine burning up the midnight oil I managed to make her three winning costumes, too.

kt2010