No Peeking!

Image attribution:  Wikimedia Commons

"Look. They're headed towards the basement."

"I know. I saw them looking for the key to the door in the kitchen cabinets."

"Let's stop them this minute. How dare they look for their gifts, steal keys and sneak around the house."

"They're kids. Didn't you ever look for a hidden gift or shake the box to find out what was in it?"

"Well, yes. But that's besides the point!"

"Anyway, it doesn't matter. I moved all of the gifts to the attic. The only thing they'll find are boxes with lumps of coal."

"I can't wait to see their faces!"



This drabble was from last year's Advent Calendar.  For this year's Advent Calendar, please visit The Burrow.

Palacio Avenida Nata: Christmas in Brazil

Image: Wikimedia Commons

The mood is electrifying. Bodies are hugged tightly together in anticipation of the opening night. The cacophony of human voices permeate the air and rise to a crescendo. Music is heard faintly in the background. Singing begins and is beautifully fluid. A hush falls upon the crowd and an angel begins to sing. Countless cherubs join the angel and a heavenly choir sings "Carol of the Bells" in Portuguese. This melody resonates across the square and penetrates the very center of the crowd's soul. The lights appear in unison and the audience moves like a single wave across the ocean.




This was a drabble written for last year's Advent Calendar.  Here is a link to the 2010 December Feature.

Christmas Tree

Dear Santa,

Annually, on the day after Thanksgiving, my family and I put up the Christmas tree.  We drag out the storage bin from the recesses of my husband’s utility closet.  We lay out the tree in it’s various pieces all throughout the living room.  We untangle the lights, sort the decorations, untangle the garland, put together the tree, put everything on the tree and finally take everything down to reorganize them into some symmetrically, aesthetically pleasing arrangement.

Is it any wonder that it took a full two weeks after Thanksgiving to put up the tree and decorate?

Sincerely,

Exhausted

This one is for Tara Smith, a fellow Burrower, who had a hectic time putting up her tree.  The image above is obviously not my tree since I have yet to put mine up.  

*hides from pitchforks*

The Yule Goat

"Mother, hurry. We’ll be late for the Yule Festival," Annika shouted.

"I’ll be down in a moment. I’m gathering the clove spiked apples and oranges. Have Anker collect some boughs from the pine trees in the yard and tell Anton to gather a bushel of wheat. And . . .," her breathless mother responded.

"Yes. All is taken care of. I have the holly and mistletoe throughout the house. We have to go. We’ll miss the Yule log and the Yule goat ceremony," whined a frustrated Annika.

"And wassail to you too," Mother toasts as she rushes past with her spiced cider.

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons, Udo Schroter.


To see more of our drabbles from our December Feature, visit The Burrow.

Educational Issues

Hi Everyone!

Today, I'm discussing educational issues that may have a profound impact on students and teachers in the classroom.  So hop on over to The Burrow and check it out.

This topic was so interesting, especially from the many perspective of our followers at the Burrow.  It sparked a rebuttal from my good friend Rayna.  Here it is.

Take care,
Chary

Conversations With a Six Year Old- Zoo Flowers

"Oh Mommy, those are pretty flowers! What are they doing in a zoo?"

"Well, the zoo owners wanted to make everything really pretty so that people will want to visit the animals."

"That's silly. People will visit the zoo no matter what. Everybody loves animals."

"Well, I think these flowers are a way of making everyone feel welcome."

"Hhmm. Well, the animals make me feel welcome. I don't like the bugs in the flowers. Like bees. They can chase you and sting you and then you cry and cry."

Who can argue with the logic of a six year old?

Thanksgiving

 From my home to yours- Happy Thanksgiving!!!!!!!

T’was the night of Thanksgiving,

But I just couldn’t sleep.

I tried counting backwards,

I tried counting sheep.

The leftovers beckoned,

The dark meat and white.

But I fought the temptation,

With all of my might.

Tossing and turning,

with anticipation.

The thought of a snack

became infatuation.

So I raced to the kitchen,

Flung open the door,

And gazed at the fridge,

Full of goodies galore.

I gobbled up turkey,

And buttered potatoes,

Pickles and carrots,

Beans and tomatoes.

I felt myself swelling,

So plump and so round.

‘til all of a sudden,

I rose off the ground.

I crashed through the ceiling,

Floating into the sky,

With a mouthful of pudding,

And a handful of pie.

But I managed to yell

As I soared past the trees

Happy eating to all,

Pass the cranberries, please!!

May your stuffing be tasty

May your turkey be plump.

May your potatoes and gravy

Have nary a lump.

May your yams be delicious,

May your pies take the prize

And May your Thanksgiving dinner

Stay off of your thighs!

by Lauren

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Orange Mushroom

"What's this Mommy?"

"Well, that's a mushroom. Not sure which kind but it looks beautiful."

"Can we eat it? It looks like really yummy candy."

"No, sweetie. We can't eat bright orange mushrooms. Matter of fact, most mushrooms are poisonous. Don't ever eat any mushrooms that are growing outside. Okay?"

"So, all mushrooms outside will kill me."

"Yup. Our bodies can't handle them. Promise not to eat any. I see that little glint in your eye. You cannot eat them, even when I'm not with you."

"Yes, Mommy. Can we get something to eat? The mushroom made me really hungry."



Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

To see more, visit the Burrow's Prismatic Feature.

Amethyst

"Adolpha, fetch me my amethyst jewelry and goblet. I have the Women's Circle this evening," commanded noble Lady Callista, wife of the notable politician Marcus Gallerius.

"At once my lady," Adolpha replies. It is customary for women of the patrician class to wear amethyst jewels and drink from same-stone goblets as it wards off any drunkenness or seduction. Unfortunately for the Callista, every social affair ends in an inebriated, lustful scandal.

"My lady, here are the items requested," Adolpha states with disgust.

"You are dismissed," replies Callista curtly.

Adolpha secretly smiles, looking forward to her evening with her lady's husband.




Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

To see more, visit the Burrow's Prismatic Feature.  I am also at The Burrow blog today.  Pop on over for some coffee, tea and recommended reading.

Yellow Maple

Like a leaf on the wind, you came into my life unexpectedly. So brief was our encounter, that any outsider would think it almost inconsequential. Your spirit remains with me even now, when I look at the trees or a meandering, muddy running stream. You were always bright and happy, helping anyone who needed it; the embodiment of kindness.

But like the yellow autumn leaves turning brown during a sudden winter frost, you withered and died, leaving me empty. I never did tell you that like beautiful fall foliage, you brought light where there was an ever-present darkness. Thank you.

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

To see more, visit the Burrow's Prismatic Feature.