Late this past July, our first granddaughter was born. Now, she is five months old and we were delighted to celebrate her first Christmas. She is so pretty--dark hair and eyes, nineteen pounds of joy.
I hadn't bought Christmas gifts for any baby in a long time. I had to think what would be fun and not tossed aside. So I settled on the old standby-the farm version of See and Say. I settled my granddaughter on my lap, she actually tore paper which was tons of fun and then she proceeded to eat it. LOL, and once freed from the box, I pulled the string. She grasped it and tried to stick in her mouth where everything goes these days. I continued pulling the string and finally, her eyes bugged at the different sounds coming from the toy.
The farm animal See and Say now uses a battery and is smaller than the version my sons had. Which I like. It's easier for kiddoes to handle.
I gave some cute outfits and a crocheted fox. Who knew foxes are hot? And yes, the fox goes in her mouth.
Continue the holiday spirit with three delightful stories, full of wishes and holiday kisses--Sommerville holidays.
Excerpt: Holiday Disaster
Merry Christmas to me. Not really.
Wrapping my hands around the older-than-time plumbing underneath my bathroom sink, I yanked, hoping-praying-hoping the darn thing would loosen, and all would be saved. But no. Nada. Too darn tight.
Obviously, somebody more muscular than me was required to strong-arm the pipe free. My shoulders hunched with helpless feelings. I should have closed the drain stopper to prevent my contact from swirling merrily away after it popped out of my eye and flew in the sink.
Feeling helpless sucks big time, and I hate it.
Not a great way to kick off the holiday season.
I should have paid more attention when Dad donned his Mr. Fix-it hat and repaired stuff in the family homestead. Maybe I would have learned something valuable, something resembling Plumbing 101. But like most little girls, playtime was ten times more fun than hanging with Dad and repairing broken stuff.
What to do. What to do. Nothing I could do. I declared “surrender” and called the condo’s emergency number. Mr. Maintenance Man told me he was on his way. I hoped he wasn’t humoring me. Lying—my number one enemy.
Excerpt: The Littlest Angel
Bright and early on Saturday morning at the Sommerville fairgrounds, I slowly strolled along an aisle at my favorite flea market, pausing to look at special goodies that caught my eye. I halted when I saw a woman several booths ahead of me stoop in front of a table and drag a box to her feet. She reached inside the ragged cardboard container and pulled out something I knew deep, deep within my heart what I hoped to find for many years—a little Christmas angel.
I always hoped I would find a replacement and searched the dusty aisles of the Automobile Building, where the market set up the first weekend of every month. I dug through many a ripped carton or dirty bag and never saw anything close—until today.
Pressing my hands to my chest, I begged quietly, “Please. Please don’t take her. Please don’t.”
Excerpt: Holiday Handbag Extravaganza
What a mess.
The bell sitting on the counter above my head ding-ding-dinged in an irritating way. I huffed. Really?
Then I heard, “Hey,”—two dings—“I need help. Anybody working today?”
Despite the din assaulting my ears, I didn’t answer, and not because I was mean. Because I was a woman on a mission. I had to retrieve the hundred-dollar bill, which vanished when The Copper Teapot’s front door erupted wide with a wintry gust. All kinds of stuff tornadoed about my store, like price tags, papers, and hard-earned moola. I dropped to my hands and knees and scrambled to retrieve the mess. In today’s sucky economy, every smidgen of revenue mattered.
Sticking the ruler in the gap between the floor and the showcase, I bit my lip and concentrated, waving the makeshift tool back and forth so I could snag the elusive dinero. Another three-note ding sounded.
I rolled my eyes before sing-songing, “Just a minute, please.”
Obviously, this guy couldn’t see me crouched on the floor. His toe tapping and bell ringing conveyed his impatience. Fingers drummed above my head. I shrugged my shoulders, thinking, rats. Every customer is important. Guess I should be a responsible business owner and do the right thing.
Find Sommerville holidays at: Amazon