It’s Christmas, no time to be bummin, other day I was going through stuff, boxes an boxes stacked on top of totes which are on top of other totes. It’s then it clicked (sometimes it it’s awhile). As a kid you don’t think such terms because you are too busy thinking about Santa and gifts and food! Who provided the magic in your home, that’s right, your mother did, who started the conversation as in ” you go out and get those lights hung up”. clear case of your mother taking charge of Christmas. The tree was never the same except Beautiful. Well now I understand why. A wood fold out sleigh was always full of nuts
Ohh, and of course we must mention glassware
Going through just a couple boxes I felt a smile breakout, never mind this pile for there are mores piles
Believe you me, I know the difference between a Christmas present & a Birthday gift. Was some people over for like Christmas party, thinking 9 couples, she always had real mistletoe hanging
being a kid of 11/12 where your voice cracks and other weird stuff happening to your body I hear my name called, and there is Betty standing under the mistletoe, (I didn’t know it the time, her nickname was Bouncing Betty for good reason, believe you me I know the difference between a B cup and a Triple JJ. Like an idiot I went over to Betty, she wrapped arms around me, face buried between her breasts all the while she’s applying a reserve motorboat, Forget about any enjoyment a 11/12 year boy would have gotten, I couldn’t breath, I heard laughter while I dyin under the mistletoe. Went on for only God knows, felt forever, I never went by her again ever, I’m fast learner. As a kid whose taking beating from boobage you don’t think anything except living, now going these Christmas items, carrying around such weighted breasts as Betty did, that had to hurt her back. Fun lady, just stay away from her. It’s a TRAP!
A song to hear while reading a poem from long ago
1936 by J.R.R. Tolkien
Grim was the world and grey last night:
The moon and stars were fled,
The hall was dark without song or light,
The fires were fallen dead.
The wind in the trees was like to the sea,
And over the mountains’ teeth
It whistled bitter-cold and free,
As a sword leapt from its sheath.
The lord of snows upreared his head;
His mantle long and pale
Upon the bitter blast was spread
And hung o’er hill and dale.
The world was blind,
the boughs were bent,
All ways and paths were wild:
Then the veil of cloud apart was rent,
And here was born a Child.
The ancient dome of heaven sheer
Was pricked with distant light;
A star came shining white and clear
Alone above the night.
In the dale of dark in that hour of birth
One voice on a sudden sang:
Then all the bells in Heaven and Earth
Together at midnight rang.
Mary sang in this world below:
They heard her song arise
O’er mist and over mountain snow
To the walls of Paradise,
And the tongue of many bells was stirred
in Heaven’s towers to ring
When the voice of mortal maid was heard,
That was mother of Heaven’s King.
Glad is the world and fair this night
With stars about its head,
And the hall is filled with laughter and light,
And fires are burning red.
The bells of Paradise now ring
With bells of Christendom,
And Gloria, Gloria we will sing
That God on earth is come.
