My Christmas Mug
Column #232 12-16-10
Sitting at my kitchen table listening to Christmas carols and sipping a mug of hot spiced tea I savor the flavors of honey, coconut and vanilla, which fill my senses with memories of Christmases growing up as a child.
The earliest memories come in flashes, like a picture on a postcard. Just glimpses really, flickering through my mind…suddenly there, then not. In one flash, I’m peeking through the railings on the stairs in our house in Maine, in awe of all the presents under the tree. I was just a toddler and too young to understand anything except that I was getting presents that morning.
In another memory I’m older, yet still so much a child. It’s not quite Christmas and my brothers and I were playing on the sofa. Somehow, the quarter we had been playing with suddenly slid through the cushions. Since it opened into a bed, we lifted up the seat, only to expose a treasure of hidden presents waiting to be wrapped. If I still believed in Santa then, that certainly would have changed my mind.
When I was in high school my father finally retired from the Air Force and settled in West Virginia. After my brothers and I moved out dad gave me all the brightly colored bulbs that had decorated all those childhood Christmas trees. Those bulbs, colors faded, fill a large round glass vase and is currently the festive center piece on my dining room table. Recalling all the memories of hanging them, they represent so many Christmases and I can’t help but smile every time I look at it.
Taking another sip from my Christmas mug a laugh catches me by surprise as I remember my daughter’s first Christmas. Only four months old and all dressed up in red and white her endless, joyful laughter filled the air. Sitting propped against a cushion on the couch, I was playfully poking her tummy with a wrapping paper tube while her delightful joy overflowed. Thinking back to that Christmas, her laughter is the only gift I remember.
A few Christmases later she was sitting in her highchair and suddenly dumped a bowl of potatoes and gravy on her head laughing at herself. My younger brother, sitting beside her, laughed so hard his sides hurt. My grandmother, not to be topped, crouched on the floor with her bowl of ice cream and shared it with the cat creating more laughter! Sadly, my brother only celebrated twenty-four Christmases. But my memories are fond of him and Nana, who left us the year before my brother, being there to share in the love and laughter.
The first Christmas after I moved to North Carolina, my daughter was about seven. So I taped an envelope to the bottom of a very large box (a stove would fit in). Compared to her small size it was quite enormous. But she managed to tip it over and crawl inside, laughing and tossing out the paper as she went, finally arriving at her gift certificate. I can’t remember what it was for or how much it was worth, but I’ll never forget the laughter.
Now we have new little bundle of Sunshine, celebrating her first Christmas this year.
Although there won’t be any peeking through railings, huge boxes, or empty wrapping paper tubes to entertain. Four generations will be together to share love and joy. And in my house there is always an endless supply of laughter; adding to the richness of fond memories floating inside the warmth of my Christmas mug.
Christmas is not about shopping and gift giving. You only need the love of your family and friends to make memories that last a lifetime. Be good to yourself and each other and know you are truly blessed and loved…now and always.
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The first time this collection of poems has been published together. Rewriting T’was the Night before Christmas for the past five years, you now have the pleasure of reading all of them. Enjoy!
A very Canine Christmas
Column #76 12-20-07
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the dog lot,
Not a canine was stirring, not even the pup.
Master’s old socks were hung on the fence with care,
In hopes that St. Bernard would soon be there.
That night the canine crew lay all snug on their beds,
While visions of squeaky toys danced in their heads.
And me in my sweats and pink fuzzy house shoes,
Had just climbed in the recliner for a bit of a snooze.
When out in the driveway arose such a clanging,
I sprang from my chair to check on the banging.
I ran to the kitchen door as fast as I could,
And gazed out in wonder just where I stood.
The street light glinted off the gravel below,
And gave the appearance of new fallen snow.
When what to my unbelieving eyes did I see,
A bright red dog house, but how could this be!
A Labrador was driving and sat high in his seat,
I had to be dreaming or suffering from the heat.
Scurrying around, here and there, to and fro,
Were rabbits, guinea pigs and animals I did not know.
Now, Rex! Now King! Now, Molly and Mitten,
On, Muffin! On, Shadow! On, Sergeant and Twixen
To the edge of the lawn, to the dog lot go,
Go with treats, go with chewies. Go! Go! Go!
To the back yard they pushed the huge dog house,
Dragging and pulling, I even caught site of a grouse.
Slowly passing the kitchen door as I waved,
Pawing and clawing their way down the driveway.
As I turned on my heels to see the events unfold,
I was met by St. Bernard, his breath visible in the cold.
He was dressed all in red and looked quite smashing,
His dog sweater neatly pressed, and absolutely dashing!
A sack full of canine treats he carried into the dog lot.
He was a dog on a mission, forget a stocking he would not!
His eyes weren’t visible, his whiskers were twitching,
And his ears perked up as he sat to scratch an itchin’.
He wasn’t shedding and obviously had just been shampooed,
His fur was soft and shiny and looking freshly groomed!
He appeared happy and healthy. And even had a wet nose,
And I couldn’t believe that I was creeping so close.
He glanced my way. Not once, but twice!
And I just knew he was extra, special nice.
No barking from he, as he went about his chores,
In the stockings he put chewies as the canine crew snored.
Looking at me, he nodded all was just right,
Then wagging his tail he dashed fast as a light.
Leaping in the dog house, he gave a sharp bark,
And away they scurried down the street, into the dark.
The last thing I saw was a wave of St. Bernard’s huge glove,
As I grew weary from the excitement, my eyes needed a rub.
Then I heard him howl excitedly, as they went out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all canines good night!”
~Bobbi G, 2007~
A very Feline Christmas
Column #129 12-25-08
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the cat condo.
Not a feline was stirring, not even old Banjo.
Mistress’ old pantyhose hung on the condo with care.
In hopes that Miss Kitty would soon be there.
That night frisky felines lay all snug in their beds.
While visions of field mice danced in their heads.
And me in my PJ’s and warm woolen cap.
Had just lain on the couch, for a bit of a nap.
When outside the window arose such a chatter.
I sprang from my spot to see what was the matter.
Stumbling to the door I stubbed my big toe.
Then stood there stifling a surprised, “Oh, no!”
The street light glared in my eyes so bright.
Hinting at the most amusing sight!
And what to my blurry eyes did I see,
A huge plastic litter box, but how could this be!
/> Fievel was steering from the edge of his seat.
Seeing is believing, and boy was this neat!
Scampering around, here…there…and everywhere.
Were kittens and critters and old Toms with scruffy hair.
Now Fluffy! Now Muffy! Now Maxie and Puffin!
On, Zoey! On, Chloe! On, Zenith and Winkin!
To the front porch stoop, to the cat condo go.
Go with fake mice, go with cat nip. Go! Go! Go!
Toward the triple-decker cat house the litter box they shoved.
Huffin’ and puffin’…suddenly I caught sight of a dove.
Slowly passing the living room door as I gazed,
Grunting and groaning over the hardwoods they slaved.
As I spun on my heels to see which way they went.
I was met by Miss Kitty looking quite elegant.
Lovely in red silk, strands of pearls she was wearing.
Her coat buttoned at the neck and the skirt was a flaring.
A basket of cat toys she carried with her left paw.
She was a fancy feline for sure, that I clearly saw.
Her eyes sharp as tacks, she seemed to know my thinking.
I tried to stare back, but suddenly started blinking.
Her mouth seemed to smile with a twitch of her whiskers.
Then her long pink tongue shot out in a bit of a flicker.
Not a hair out of place, her fur looked soft to the touch.
She had obviously just groomed, maybe a little too much.
She appeared reserved even slightly distracted.
But what cat doesn’t prefer aloof, even acting detached.
She glanced at me, not once, but twice!
And I knew if I stayed to watch it would be trice!
Soft purring from she as she set about her routine.
In the nylons she stuffed goodies as my felines’ dreamed.
Glancing at me, a softness in her eyes I caught sight.
Then with a lightness of foot, she pranced into the night.
Leaping into the litter box, she gave a loud wail.
And away they scrambled, all Toms flicking their tails.
Then I heard her meow merrily as they went out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all felines good night!”
~Bobbi G, 2008~
A very Fishy Christmas
Column #181 12-24-09
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the fish tank.
Not a neon was swimming, not even Big Hank.
All stockings were hung on the shipwreck with care.
In hopes that Moby Dick would soon be there.
That night baby guppies floated all snug in grass beds,
While visions of shrimp bites danced in their heads.
And me in my pink fuzzy bathrobe attire,
Had just settled down for the night to retire.
When outside the window arose such a swoosh,
I sprang from my bed and fell right on my tush.
Then out the front door I flew like a flash.
Stepping in a puddle that made a huge splash!
The porch light illuminated the eerie mist.
It was so frightening I clenched both my fists.
Then what to my surprised eyes did I see,
But an enormous clam shell, but how could this be!
An octopus was driving, looking quite inky and slimy.
Shocked, I slipped again and fell right on my hiney!
Swishing around, here…there…to and fro.
Were sea horses, sea urchins and hermit crabs on the go!
“Now Skipper! Now Spiny! Now Crabby and Blue!
On, Nemo! On, Clamy! On, Coral and Hugh!
Up the front stairs, to the fish tank let’s go.
Go with shrimp bites, go with fish flakes. Go! Go! Go!”
Toward the den where the tank was, I watched them swim by.
Gurgles and bubbles they made as they swam past, oh my!
Slowly making their way down the long, dark hall.
I thought I should mop up a bit, to prevent another fall.
Then I stopped in my tracks when I heard a noise behind me.
It was Moby Dick, swishing and swaying as if he were at sea.
Dressed in a dashing red suit, it didn’t even look wet.
He was huge! Quite gigantic! 2,000 pounds at least, I bet.
A tortoise shell of fishy what-nots he held firmly in one fin.
Moving with such grace, you would think him quite thin.
His skin, smooth as satin, looked polished and glowing.
He was a happy, jolly whale and so easy-going.
His smile was wide…a big toothy grin.
I even caught sight of a whisker on his double chin.
Not a wrinkle did his suit show, even the sleeves.
No pants he wore because whales don’t have knees.
Moving with ease, he maneuvered down the hall.
Wow, I hadn’t realized Moby Dick was so…um…tall!
He glanced back at me, then once again to be sure.
I didn’t want to stare, so I went back to mopping the floor.
Not a gurgle he made as he swam toward the tank of fish.
Stuffing stockings with everything on the guppies’ list.
Glancing at me, his gaze softened at bit.
Then with a flick of his tail they were off lick-a-de-split!
Diving into the clam shell, water gushed from his spout.
And away they all swam, small crabs scrambling about.
Then I heard him shout loudly as they went out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all fishes good night!”
~Bobbi G, 2009~
A Very Rodent Christmas
Column #233 12-23-10
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the Habitrail,
Not a hamster was stirring, not even mighty Dale.
Grandpappy’s old tube socks hung on the cage with care,
In hopes the great Golden Hamster would soon be there.
In the burrow the litter was all snug in their beds,
While visions of dried fruit danced in their heads.
And me in my fuzzy Snuggie and warm woolen footies,
Had just curled up on the sofa with a box of goodies.
When from under the house arose such a loud sound,
I jumped off the sofa spilling bonbons all around.
Scrambling to the top of the bookcase I went with such speed,
This couldn’t be an earthquake. Surely not, indeed!
Knick-knacks on the shelf were rolling about and might fall,
Yet, the sound was much louder now, and clearly down the hall.
When what to my disbelieving ears did I hear,
But a lot of smashing and crashing, it was my worst fear!
Suddenly a flurry of moles scurried out of the floor’s crack,
Then appeared a huge Golden Hamster with a sack on his back.
Scampering rodents were running all around on the loose,
There were ferrets, gerbils, polecats and even a mongoose.
“Now, Tuffy! Now, Scruffy! Now, Scooter and Smitten!
On, Tweeter! On, Sneakers! On, Fable and Dixon!
To the den down the hall, to the Habitrail go!
Go with nuts, go with berries. Go! Go! Go!”
Down the hall the rodents scurried, scampered and ran,
Squealing and twitching, as only small vermin can.
Speeding past me as I stood awestruck by the scene,
My floor! My hall! My house! Surely this was a dream!
Following the furry parade to make sure all was just fine,
I bumped into the Golden Hamster, his beady eyes meeting mine.
He was dressed in red and white and sporting a Pandora,
His jacket shimmered, of his good looks he was sure of.
A pouch full of dried fruit, nuts and veggies he carried,
br /> He sped past me to deliver the treats, in such a furry hurry.
His eyes were very bright, even though they were tiny,
His ears were big and round, his nose slightly shiny.
His green mitts were clutching handfuls of treats,
He was grinning from ear to ear, it was rather sweet.
His cheeks were puffed out, full who knows what,
I started to ask, but decided to keep my mouth shut.
His color was golden, and such a beautiful hue,
Then I noticed the boots, freshly polished too!
He made not a sound, not a squeak, not an utter,
The stockings he filled, then gave a quick shudder.
He turned around quick and looked in my direction,
Then back to his work as he delivered sweet confections.
No noise did he make, as he scurried and flittered
Patting the cage, sure to not wake the sleeping litter.
He glanced back at me, then gave me a nod,
A quick swish of his tail as he darted and bobbed.
Past me, down the hall, then through the hole in the floor,
Then like magic, the critters and the hole were no more.
Still, I could hear muffled noises from under the house,
A low rumbling noise, hardly louder than a field mouse.
Suddenly a booming voice, even though they were all out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all rodents good night!”
~Bobbi G, 2010~
A Very Fowl Christmas
Column #272 12-22-11
T’was the night before Christmas and all through the chicken house,
Not a baby chick was stirring, not even tiny Krause.
Old woolen socks were hung around the coop with care,
In hopes that Cock-a-doodle Doo would soon be there.
That night baby chicks lay all snug in their nests,
While visions of cracked corn danced through their heads.
And me in my overalls and green rubber boots,
Had just grabbed the shovel to scoop chicken poop.
When out in the corn field I heard a loud crash
It sounded so close I thought I’d better check fast
I flew to the open window at the speed of sound,