The IOU

1983. Through the years there have been many "skimpy" Christmases in our family. Many. For some reason, we always seemed to be in our worst financial shape in December.

I am well aware that many families survive this situation by using that little plastic rectangle. But we didn't have any of those. None.

This particular Christmas, we lived in Houston. The kids had a long wish list. And we had an empty bank account. Empty. I couldn't think what to do.

On Christmas Eve my friend Joyce drove me down to the local drugstore because there were some stuffed animals advertised on sale. Well. We found the animals and actually, they were quite delightful because they were different. Lions, tigers, giraffes...safari animals. And they were a decent size. And they were within my budget means.

I chose four, but really wanted some ribbon for bows. There was no more money, though. Absolutely none left. Joyce assured me she would handle the ribbon. We went back home, tied jaunty bows around each toy's neck along with a name tag and set them beneath the tree.

It was pretty bare down there.

Though our children were aware of the situation, my heart still grieved that I could provide so little. If only it was just a couple months later when Income Tax time had rolled around. We always received a hefty income tax return because--hey! Four kids!

Then an idea of dazzling brilliance dawned. Why not set aside some of that money for the kids Christmas? But how to let them know I was doing that?

Then I thought--a gift certificate!

We had an old dot matrix printer. I printed out my gift certificates, carefully wrote in a name on each with an amount and frowned down at the flimsy sheets of paper. They weren't very festive.

After a moment, I dug out the kids crayons and added drawings of holly and bells and colored them in. That was better. Then with a sigh of reluctant acceptance I tucked them in beneath the bows on the stuffed animals and went to bed.

It was the best I could do.

Christmas morning dawned bright and clear. The kids woke us up, bubbling and giggling out in the living room. Curiosity got the better of me so I padded out there to see what all the merriment was about. There on the living room floor, each kid had sheets of paper, making out lists of all they ways they were going to spend their Christmas IOUs. The stuffed animals were overseeing the project.

The next year when we asked the kids what they wanted for Christmas, they all promptly answered, "Christmas gift certificates!"

So you might say I invented the Christmas gift card. I was always a bit before my time...

anny

The Bride Doll AND the Saga

Over the years I've written several short vignettes about different Christmas' in my life. Beginning today and going through Christmas, I'll periodically post them in no particular order. Today's vignette takes place in 1957.

I also want to say Happy Birthday to my son, Anthony. Today he's 37. Ooooold Man!

Christmas 1957. I was eight years old. That was the year of the Bride Doll and also the year I discovered the truth about Santa Claus. I lived in a very small town called Hayden, Arizona. At that time, there was a general store in the center of town near the elementary school. Each afternoon on the way home from school, I would rush inside and check out The Bride Doll.

The Bride Doll was the most important dream of my young life. She was two feet tall dressed in a bride dress composed of layer upon layer of white lace. She had short curly blonde hair and a veil. The display box was high up on a shelf so that you could see her the minute you entered the store.

Every afternoon, I rushed inside to check that she was still there. At the time, I don’t think I realized that the store would naturally have more than one in stock. I was sure that as long as The Bride Doll was in the store on Christmas Eve, then Santa would bring me my dearest wish…The Bride Doll.

One afternoon as I trotted down the sidewalk after school, I saw my mother standing by our car in front of the store. Now in those days, kids did not ride in the front seat. The front seat was reserved for grown ups. So when my mother asked if I wanted a ride home, I naturally yanked open the back door even as my mother yelled, “No!”

And lo and behold, there was The Bride Doll on the back seat.

I was dumbfounded. What was The Bride Doll doing in my car? It says much about innocence of that era that it never even occurred to me that my mother had bought it. All I could think was, “Why did Santa bring my doll when it wasn’t even Christmas?”

Well, we rode home in silence. Then, my mother took me by the hand and led me into the kitchen where we proceeded to have milk and cookies while she explained how Moms and Dads were Santa’s helpers. It was vague enough that it took me two more years to finally get it. She explained that my brothers didn’t know about how Moms and Dads helped Santa so I would have to pretend to be surprised.

Pretending and having secrets was almost as exciting as knowing that The Bride Doll would be mine on Christmas Day. I dragged that poor doll around for years. As a matter of fact, fifty years later, she’s still stashed in my spare room. I’m afraid that she’s a bit worse for the wear, but my granddaughters still love her anyway. Her bride dress is long gone. At the moment she has a sailor dress. I keep thinking that I’ll find time to make her a new dress but I haven’t done it yet.

A little over two years later, my mother died. I wonder what she’s thinking now as she peeks down from Heaven? Is she shaking her head over that bedraggled dolly? Probably so.

The picture is my mom and grandpa, now gone many years. Oh, and that's me clutching my Bride Doll.

Anny

Do you want to win some fantastic holiday reading? If so come celebrate the Twelve days of Romance with 12 authors from Ellora's Cave, Wild Rose Press, Total-E-Bound and Cerridwen Press. Each day beginning December 8th and running through December 19th one of the twelve authors will tell what their "True love gave to them" on either their blog or website.

Collect all twelve answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with 12 days of Romance in the subject line to win some great books.

There will be three lucky winners.

The prizes –1st prize--6 books

2nd prize--4 books

3rd prize--2 books

All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.

Tune in on December the 6th for complete details!

Anny Cook Winter Hearts
Sandra Cox Boji Stones
Bronwyn Green Ronan’s Grail
Heather Hiestand Cards Never Lie
Barbara Huffert Deal of a Lifetime
Amarinda Jones Mad About Mirabelle
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Cindy Spencer Pape Cowboy’s Christmas Bride
Brynn Paulin Fallen
Jacquéline Roth Access Denied
KZ Snow Mrs. Claws
Lacey Thorn Earth Moves

Fun, right?

Well, let's see... Where did Amarinda leave us on the Saga?

“I could kill you for that but I won’t.” The woman leered at her. “I have been given the task of taking you to Yum Cha.”

Emmeline stiffened in horror. Yum Cha was knife throwing Tibetan anarchist who had vowed to kill her for saving the life of high Chieftain. “I’m not going.”

“It’s not optional, short arse.”

Emmeline calculated her chances of successfully fighting Merle at dead zero. Bribery, however was a distinct possibility. Merle could really use a pair of shoes and a complete make-over. Really, look at those filthy feet and purple toenails were so passé.

“So, Merle,” Emmeline said craftily. “How would you like a make-over? Maybe a new pair of shoes. Some slimming clothes…”

“Why?” Merle asked point blank.

“Well, don’t you want to look your best? I always think that the better you look, the easier it is to win friends and influence people.” Emmeline’s eyes darted around as she looked for the darned peeler. Surely Merle hadn’t smashed the peeler!

Merle noticed the wandering eyes right off the bat. “What are you looking for?” she asked suspiciously.

“Oh, I just thought maybe there was something of Zoltan’s lying around. You know a little memento of the lying rat.”

Lifting her foot up, Merle plucked a metal object from her big toe. “This is all there is,” she observed before tossing the bent peeler to Emmeline. “Now can we get back to this make-over business? How do you propose to do this?”

“Well, we’ll have to go to Hong Kong, of course. They have the best tailors in the business. I’m thinking that you might want a warm red rinse on the hair. Nice and bright and it’ll give your face some color—”

“Hold it right there, sister. First we’ll go see Yum Cha. Then, we’ll go to Hong Kong. For one thing, my sister, Beryl will want to come with us. She likes to go new places and see new things.”

“But—” Emmeline started to object.

“Nope. Yum Cha has a proposition for you. Actually, thats the reason I had to get rid of your man. He would have really been in the way. Yum Cha don’t go for none of them men-ages, you know?”

So where will Kelly take us on Monday? Tune in then to find out. In the meantime, don't forget to drop by Amarinda's place at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ and Kelly's place at http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ to find out what words of wisdom they have to share. Blessings on your day!

Last Man Standing by Janet Davies from Cerridwen Press

I seldom get too excited by the men on our covers. They're attractive, but -- they're men. Young and cookie cutter pretty. The young man that posed for the cover for Last Man Standing isn't pretty. He's attractive, masculine, and perfect for the character of Alex, the hero of Last Man Standing.



The book is the sequel to Swift of Heart which I reviewed a while back. While strictly speaking you could read this book as a stand alone because Janet did such an excellent job of providing backstory for the book, I'm one of those people who insist on reading books in sequence. And that's my personal recommendation.



Swift of Heart is the story of Mackinley Swift, a warrior from another dimension, and Stephanie Hart, regular girl about town from Brisbane. Alex Navarro is Mac's best friend. And the heroine of Last Man Standing is Stephanie's sister, Amy Hart. Cozy arrangement there. No problems with the inlaws this way, right?



Alex arrives from his home dimension to warn Amy that she's in danger. She doesn't take the news very well. She handles the sudden attraction between them with even less enthusiasm. But Alex is not put off by her prickly attitude. Inevitably, they become lovers, fall in love and Alex panics because....there is a prophecy.



It's been my experience that if at all possible, men will choose the worst interpretation of the future. I believe it's in their genes. Alex automatically decides that he will endanger Amy if he stays with her so after repudiating her, he returns home.



Fast forward a few months..."I am not the father." Surprise!



Does Alex ever acknowledge parentage? Do they catch the bad guys? Do Amy and Alex get together in the end? Or does she keep insisting that she won't have him even if he's the Last Man Standing? Quick, go directly to Cerridwen Press and grab your copy of the delightful story Last Man Standing by Janet Davies.


Anny



Check out Amarinda's blog tomorrow to catch the new twist on the Saga at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ and then drop by and leave an encouraging word at Kelly's blog at http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ because there are always days that will be made better by an encouraging word.

Laughter IS the best medicine...

The last two or three days have been pretty rough and tough for me. No... I'm not going to discuss why, but I do want to say a hearty thank you to my blog mates. Because after offering to do almost anything I needed, they kept me laughing.

I think that laughter is vastly underrated. I have a friend who is battling cancer. We talk fairly often and mostly what we do is laugh--giggle like a couple of school girls. What else are we going to do? Crying leaves you with ugly red eyes.

Now if you read the blogga saga regularly, you know that general silliness is not difficult. It just seems to sort of come to us naturally. As a matter of fact, I think we have to rein it in a bit or it gets away from us.

So I spent a good portion of this evening snickering. It's always better to go to bed with a smile on your face than a heavy heart in your chest. Oh, I know that underneath, there are still things to deal with. But the load is lighter because of laughter. And that's important.

Often when we have family and friends far away, suffering all sorts of things we wring our hands and say, "Oh, I wish I could do something to help!"

Well, I'm telling you what to do. Find a way to share the laughter. It might be a silly card. It might be flowers. It might be a letter reminding them of better times or an email with a cartoon. But never forget that whatever the problem is, it's easier to deal with a smile on your face than with teary eyes.

In my life time I have dealt with a pile of disasters and grief. Anyone who has lived, has done the same. But I have observed that those people who can laugh in the midst of tragedy live longer, more productive lives. That they can laugh is not a sign of callousness. It's a sign of deep feeling, cushioned by those little flashes of amusement. Without the cushions, the feelings would drag them down so that they couldn't function.

Next time you see someone laughing in the midst of catastrophe, smile because laughter is the best medicine.

Anny

Speaking of laughter... Oh, my. Go see what Kelly has done with the blogga saga now at www.kkirch.blogspot.com and then of course check in on Amarinda for her usual unique Australian take on life at www.amarindajones.blogspot.com Also, pop in to http://www.cerridwenpress.com/index.asp and have a squizz (I love that word) at Amarinda's newest release Last Man Standing, under her other name, Janet Davies. Isn't that young man on the cover scrumptious?