Getting Ready for Guests

We worked hard all day, and got a lot done. Cassie came over and helped me clean. She even helped me sort the papers piled on my desk. As a morale boost for me, we put our illuminated village scene on the top of our kitchen cabinets.

Cassie was masterful at tiptoeing across the counter tops and placement of each porcelain piece. Now, Santa is sledding down a snow-covered hill, and the milk man is delivering his goods; the school bus stands ready to pick up the children as the snow plow clears the roads. And all the miniature houses and businesses are aglow with lights in their windows. We were quite pleased with ourselves as we stood back and admired our work.

After completing the village, Cassie was still game for more assignable tasks. We got the bows and labels on the remaining gifts, and placed them under the tree. Meanwhile, Richard went to Mamie’s.

Mamie has offered to let us use her garage apartment for overflow guests, so we agreed to get it ready -- preparing for the event that we have to take Mamie up on her offer. Armed with every manner of cleaning supply, Richard went forth to prepare the way. What busy bees we all were.

Six hours of Cassie’s help, and I can’t even believe that all the gifts are now wrapped. There were over one hundred this year. I can actually see the kitchen floor. There’s no wrapping paper or ribbon strewn across the room, and all the remnants of roasted pecans, macaroons, bourbon balls and various jams have been scrubbed off the linoleum. Our home is, once again, habitable, for the first time in over a month.

I found our manger scene, and Baby Jesus rests in his bed of straw. The angel is now heralding Jesus’ birth from the top of our Christmas tree. Richard returned from Mamie’s and is in the kitchen, preparing one of his sumptuous salads. I’ll make mashed potatoes from Richard and Mamie’s passel of home-grown spuds. With the addition of some of the simply delicious mixed greens from our freezer, Richard and I will have a feast, the last alone until our guests depart.

I must remember to call our air evacuation organization to make sure that all people here are allowed air evac’s emergency care. Living in the forest, we have to plan ahead. My brother is due tomorrow with his daughter and toddler grandson. I think we’ve gotten as ready as we need to be. The next day, the parade of people begins. Can anyone ever be ready for that?

At last count, we’re expecting fourteen adults, if you consider eighteen-year-olds adults, and nine children, ranging in age from less-than-two to fifteen (or eighteen)-years-of-age. There will also be five dogs, ranging in weight from less-than-ten pounds to ninety-six pounds. We hope a good time will be had by all, including our four-legged guests.

Magical Morning

A perfect pear for Christmas breakfast,
With warm pastries from Tellico Grains.
Skies are clearing; creeks are running high
After last night’s strong winds and hard rains.

A cozy wood fire in the fireplace
To start our holiday morning right.
The power came back on at our house
With it, our many colorful lights.

Jesus was not yet in the manger;
I’m still looking for our manger scene.
But our Nativity ornament,
We have displayed on our tree of green.

Ornaments are hanging on our tree,
With the popcorn string that’s wound around.
Carols are playing on the TV;
Creating joyous holiday sounds.

We’ll lunch with our children and our grands;
Last trip this year with Santa’s red sleigh.
Then back to the holler and to bed,
To rest before our guests come to stay.

Christmas Crunch

The gifts are all wrapped, except for the bows.
I’ve set all the ornaments out in neat rows.
The boxes are stowed for the next year’s gifts
I’m thinking that I could use a few fifths.

But we still have much more to do
We are having company -- more than a few
Nieces and nephews and kids and grands
I really could use several more hands.

There are groceries to buy; toilets to clean;
Our first Holler Holiday must be a big scene.
I’ve hired little Cassie to come over and help
She has impressed me as the perfect elf.

The house is dark; electricity has failed.
Thank goodness, most of our gifts were mailed.
We’ll wait until morning to complete our tree
Our first Christmas morning -- just my Santa and me.

MERRY CHRISTMAS! And to all a good night.

Ode to Perfect Pears and Singing of Cinnamon Rolls

Ode to Perfect Pears
(To the tune of: It Came Upon a Midnight Clear)

They came upon a day so clear, those glorious pears of gold;
From angels living on the earth to touch our holler so cold.
Pears on the earth, good food for all, from Harry and David’s they’re sent.
Then we begin to anticipate the perfect pear tasting moment.

For lo the days, they pass so slow, as on the pears we wait.
When with a tender gentle touch we know this time is great.
And, with a friend, we taste the pear, juice dribbling down our chins.
Our grateful hearts give thanks to God and to our generous friends


Singing of Cinnamon Rolls
(To the tune of: Carolina in the Morning)

Nothing could be finer
Than Josie’s homemade designer
Sweet Cinn-a-mon rolls.

Dunk ‘em in my coffee
It feels just like a party
Those cinn-a-mon rolls.


It’s true – I have an obsession with food. I love to touch it, taste it, cook it, can it, smell it, and serve it. I know I should be five hundred and fifty pounds. I guess I’m just blessed with good metabolism.

I had another wonderful day preparing for Christmas. I began with baking fruitcakes. You can laugh if you want to about there only being only one fruitcake ever made that’s passed on from generation to generation as a doorstop. But, since Rachel loves my fruitcake, all our visitors will have the opportunity to taste it.

I do have to confess that the first time I fed Rachel’s then boyfriend, now her husband, Larry, my fruitcake, he threw it off the second story deck to keep from eating it. No one is forced to try my fruitcake, but everyone should be aware that it’s quite well-marinated in sherry and brandy. It might be worth a try.

While the fruitcakes were baking, I got a call from my newest soul sister, Julia, that I met on retreat in October with long-time soul sister Gayle. She has decided that, rather than accept our Christmas holiday invitation to visit, she’ll come in the spring when the mountains are in bloom. Her call and the anticipation of her visit are both special Christmas gifts to me.

Even though Richard is still recuperating from the flu, he managed to wrap a couple of gifts and put together our new Christmas tree. There are no ornaments on it, yet. But at least it came with pre-installed lights. It now stands proudly aglow in our front window.

I did finish sewing Sarah’s gift; it awaits Josie’s artistry to complete it, and then Richard can do his exquisite wrap job. I lined up cute, energetic Cassie to help me clean on the day after Christmas. It may not yet be Christmas, but at our house in the holler: All is calm, all is bright (though still messy).

What a Lovely Way to Spend a Day!

I’m working on a Christmas sewing project for Sarah, and Josie agreed to assist me with it. I walked into their home greeted by the heavenly scent of fresh cinnamon rolls, which Josie was in the process of baking. Can a home get more welcoming than that?

I presented Adam with a perfect pear for him to tend until it ripens. Even though I included an instruction manual for care of his pear, he suggested that Richard should make house calls to assist with what Josie refers to as “proper pear preparation.” Richard has his own pears to hatch, a skill that he should have, since he grew up on a chicken breeding farm. Unlike eggs, thank goodness, we don’t have to turn the pears; just watch and wait.

Josie and Adam have an absolutely glorious studio that serves as her craft center and his office. With windows on three sides, light pours into the space which is completely covered in pine: pine floors, pine walls, pine cupboards. The whole room glows with warm shades of gold.

Adam made café au lait with real Café du Monde coffee and chickory. As we sipped our coffee, Josie was back and forth from her cutting table to her computer to her cozy kitchen; at the same time, working on my sewing project. Within an hour, she had figured out the solution to my problem, baked several pans of cinnamon rolls, three loaves of challah, and a loaf of cinnamon bread. Talk about multi-tasking! Adam couldn’t take it any more, so he left to retrieve lunch.

When fellow crafter, Jenny, arrived Josie pulled out boxes of fabric swatches for Jenny to peruse. I had met Jenny on several occasions, and had purchased one of her lovely carved signs for Gayle’s garden. As we chatted, Jenny shared with me that her deceased psychologist husband had written a book on personal spirituality, one of my favorite topics. She’s looking for an agent to help sell her copies of the book. I’m looking forward reading his work, with the hope that I’ll be interested in representing it.

As we moved on to other topics, Josie pulled out several purses she’s making, along with the buttons that she’s made to adorn them. While we chatted, Josie sanded and polished her buttons. Adam was due back with lunch, so I took my leave. I still haven’t put up the first Christmas decoration, and we’re supposed to have rain for the rest of the week.

Before I left, Josie gifted me with a pan of cinnamon rolls. She and Jenny were going to work until two, when Josie goes down for her nap. When she rises, she’s onto even more creative projects. She’s an exceptional nature photographer, in addition to her culinary, seamstress, clay work, and quilting talents. Now wonder she needs a daily nap!

I got the porch lights and garland up. There’s hope for a tree before Christmas, if I can just finish Sarah’s gift…

Perfect Pears

Forget about partridges in pear trees.

On this day of Christmas
Our good friends sent to me (also addressed, for some unknown reason, to Mr. and Mrs. Warren)
Perfect pears
In Harry and David
Padded packing boxes.
Richard and I were napping when we heard the postman’s horn. As I rose from the bed, it occurred to me that the postman may have been here to deliver the pears promised by the Sterlings. If this was the case, I knew I had to hurry to the porch to retrieve them before Gypsy adopted the box.

Gypsy has a habit of retrieving anything thrown on our driveway or left on our porch bench. We’ve found important Fed-Exed documents in several of her special hiding places. The advertising newspaper she treats as her weekly dog toy gift, she carries to her lair for her reading pleasure. We would have been sorely distressed if she carried off our pears, especially since human food gives her the runs. What a waste of a precious natural resource that would have been, especially since we can’t use dog poop as garden gold.

We were told before we adopted our Great Pyrenees from the shelter that she wandered and stole things; we, therefore, named her Gypsy. What we didn’t know is the wide variety of things she’d bring to her various lairs. We’ve had to collect from her dead and dying squirrels, birds and moles; huge dead limbs off our various trees; garden and other work gloves – she has a special fondness for leather – anything made of plastic, particularly old milk jugs; and snow boots and shoes left on the porch to dry. We just couldn’t give her a chance at our perfect pears!

I ran to the window, and threw up the sash. (Actually it was the door, and I opened it.)
There on the bench, what should appear?
But two Harry and David boxes,
And,thank God, there were no deer (munching on our pears).

I tenderly lifted the boxes, and with great reverence, carried them to the kitchen and placed them on the table. I went to take my shower, the whole time drooling as I envisioned my first bite of the first perfect pear of the season. Should I enjoy it alone or with cottage cheese, or maybe a bit of both? How many pears would I share with Richard, and did the Christmas spirit dictate that I share them with anyone else? I could, virtually, taste those pears as I pulled on my t-shirt and headed to the kitchen.

As I entered the kitchen, there stood Richard with a box cutter in his hand, looking so forlorn. He began sadly shaking his head. “They’re not ripe.” He exclaimed. “They came packed with instructions for ripening them.” I carefully removed each pear and tested each as prescribed by the instructions. Not a ripe one in the bunch.

Richard says that pears have only a fifteen minute window between being so hard you can’t eat them and the time they turn to compost. We intend to keep watch over them until each one is ready, so as not to miss a morsel. We’re debating who will take first watch after midnight.

God’s Sugar Shaker

Driving home was quite a delight.
God had a sugar shaker out last night.
The trees were all dusted with wisps of white.
The mountain tops glistening were a beautiful sight;
Their snow-covered peaks all clean and bright.

As I rounded each curve, my heart fairly took flight;
I’ll make it home before the fading of light.

My soul mate will greet me,and we just might
Share a toast, and a light supper bite.
The fire in our hearth that we’ll ignite,
As the glistening becomes soft moonlight,
Will complete our feeling that all is right.

Knowing that there’s nothing to warrant fright,
We’ll wish each other a peaceful goodnight.