Kimberly Brown, Home for the Holidays
I’ll be around during the intermission/between shows to take photos. How much? Not sure, that’s up to the photographer. But I’ll gladly shake your hand and pray with you if nothing else. That’s always free.
I look forward to seeing you on Sunday. It should be a great show. I’m excited about it because I’ve known Kimberly for a few years and have great respect for her talents. This show would even put even the Grinch into the mood for Christmas.
I was distressed to run across a television news story about a “bad Santa” out in Maine. I won’t throw a link to the people that did the story because it was shoddy journalism in my less than humble opinion.
A candid photo taken while Santa is lost in thought.
I take being Santa seriously. I come home exhausted from turning up the dial to “11” when I put on that suit. My back hurts and my arms and shoulders ache from picking up and holding little ones on my knee from 7:30 until 9 pm. Up to 400 repetitions in a day, much more than that for mall Santas. It’s physically demanding work on occasion. That toy bag will weigh up to 50 pounds when people load you up heavily. But to the parents and children it no doubt seems effortless. After all, it’s just one small child at a time. Continue reading
This morning I was out for my bi-monthly beard care appointment with Dennis at The Petite Salon. He mentioned that a friend of his was looking for a Santa. I gave him some of my cards and then decided to head over to Claddagh Coffee and talk to Mary about a Santa visit in person.
We chatted a few minutes, I gave her a card and she promised to let me know. I asked what was planned and she said that it was kind of an Irish Christmas celebration. I managed not to jump up and down but did have the presence of mind to tell her, “I know a Santa, who’s standing right here, who has an Irish green Santa suit.”
The effect was perfect. Nobody has a green Santa suit. Not true. I have two. Early on in my career I was asked if I could be an Irish Santa. I had two suits made and never wore them because I never got the request again.
Well, that may or may not sway the purchase decision but it was nice to be able to offer the suit as an option.
I headed for the door and noticed a Sheltie standing there looking at me from under a table. My heart kind of fluttered. You see it has only been a week ago this moment (as I’m typing) that Maisie left us. I stopped and talked to the owner. Yes, Sheltie, not a small Collie.
The girl’s name was Madeline. And she was as sweet and gentle as Maisie. A big girl, around 35 pounds, she has a beautiful black coat and gentle, clear eyes. I sat and talked with her “mom” for quite a while about faith, Santa, dogs, loss, and having her picture taken with Santa (mom, not Madeline.)
I left the coffee shop renewed. I had a Sheltie moment for the day and it was wonderful. I was able to see the promise of a young dog and all the joy she’ll bring to her family over the next dozen years or so. And I was able to remember the really excellent times with Maisie in a different frame as a result.
I’m home now. One week has gone by exactly since I left the vet’s office much poorer than I went in the door. But life is moving forward. Edzell is snoozing next to the couch. There wasn’t a mess when I got home. Maybe he’s healed a bit in the last week and isn’t as much angry as lonely. I hope to remedy that loneliness very soon.
Perhaps best of all, the carpenter called just after I walked in and saw Ed. He’s coming over Monday to build the ramp so my old friend can make it up the stairs just a little easier. I’m glad to do that for him. He’s a great dog with a good heart. I need to make his life smooth as silk when I can.
Is there an “old dog” in your life who needs a little help? Perhaps an old friend who you haven’t talked to in a while? Or maybe a stranger in a coffee shop with whom you can talk about the love of Christ while rubbing a young dog’s head. Take that time today and do something nice, something new, something out of love for a dog or a stranger. I promise it will brighten your day.
My boy, Ed.
All good things must come to an end.
Twinkies, cockroaches, and cupcakes were to survive the impending nuclear war when I was a child.
Not so true. Another childhood memory smashed like … Wonderbread.
Yes, I found mold on my cupcakes just 2 weeks past the expiration date. Guess I shouldn’t have saved them, eh?
Yeah, kind of lame. But I promised to resume normal posts on the 8th. So I have one more day to be abnormal. The contest for the used bedsheets and fruitcake is now open. I will accept entries via the comments feature from subscribers only for 1 week, contest closing on December 14, 2012 at 2359 Central time.
*(Hint: subscribing is free. Go to the upper right side of this page and follow the instructions. It’s the little box marked “Subscribe.” You get your daily blog post via email. You might win used (but clean) slippery sheets and a fruitcake. What are you waiting for?)*
Include your name, your phone number, and 2 reasons why you deserve used sheets and a fruitcake for Christmas. I will not post the comment until I take out your information. (Promise, double pinky-swear.) There will be extra credit given for the really amusing and sarcastic ones. Keep it clean, people, this is a family blog.
While you think about your reasons, consider a new vacation venue this year: North Korea! To think I’ve been wasting my time going to Las Vegas, San Francisco, Reno, Naples, Belize, and Des Moines. Pyongyang, here I come. Man, and to think Reno claims to be the bowling capital of the world.
(Say hello to the Dear Leader’s most recent ruling relative for me when you’re there. He’ll be the only one not observing “National Famine Week.”)
Link to the propaganda video. It’s really bad. Especially Boris Slobatnatakov’s accent. Also, extra points if you can identify the part of the brain damaged by watching this more than once. (Hint: The woman from San Francisco subscribes to the youtube.com channel for North Korea.)
