THE GIFT-PART 4-Getting Home

THE GIFT-Part 4-Getting Home

“This won’t hurt a bit,” said Morty. He pushed and pulled the saw back and forth through Connie’s sap filled trunk in rapid motions. Seconds later, Connie fell onto the spot where the rabbit huddled at night to stay warm. The empty birds’ nest clung to his branches.

Morty saw the rabbit hiding under a nearby tree, “Well, Mr. Rabbit, come home with me. I’ll keep you warm.”

The rabbit jumped out. “Will you take care of me the way Connie did?”

“Yes,” said Morty, “come with me.” Morty hadn’t finished talking to the rabbit when the cardinal, the sparrow, and the chickadee appeared from nowhere and circled around his head.

“Will you take care of us too?”

“Sure,” he said. “Come with me. We will have a great time.”

“Hold on tight, Connie, I have to drag you to the wagon.” They left a track through the needles on the ground as Morty pulled Connie behind him. They stopped in front of the tall Balsam for a rest.
“I can see that you found the perfect tree,” said the Balsam.

“Yes,” said Morty, “thank you very much. I couldn’t have done it without your expert directions.”

“Have a very Merry Christmas,” replied Balsam, “I wish I could be going with you.”

Farmer Jim came and found them. He helped Morty lift Connie onto the hay wagon.

“I never thought about how I would bring a tree home on my scooter,” he said.

“Don’t worry,” said Farmer Jim, “I will help you get the tree onto your scooter. I have to help everyone who comes here.  I have lots of experience with that.”

The tractor stopped in front of the shed next to the barn. Farmer Jim slid Connie into the wrapping machine, and pushed the button. A big wheel started circling around Connie. The noisy machine pulled cord around the branches, and squeezed them tightly into Connie’s trunk. When the noise stopped, Connie was much thinner than before.

Morty carried Connie to his scooter, and just stared. He could not see how to load him. The compartment was only big enough to hold a picnic lunch and some tools. The scooter was smooth all over. It didn’t have anything sticking out to tie a rope around.

“What am I going to do?”  Morty placed the tree against the side of the scooter. “Nope, that won’t work,” he said. Next, he laid Connie onto the seat. He fit nicely along the top and hanging over the end, but Morty would have to sit on top of him to drive.

“I don’t like that either. I know, I’ll sit and hold him between my legs.” He held Connie upright between his arms. “That is worse because I can not see to drive with Connie in my face.”

Farmer Jim finally came out and tied Connie to the seat.

“You will have to sit on him,” he told Morty.”

“Okay, but I don’t like it, come on kids hop on.”

The bunny jumped on and huddled by his feet, and the birds found secret openings in the branches to hide in.

“I’ll go slow,” said Morty.

“Good, I don’t want you to lose me after all that fuss.”

Morty drove Sky-scooter slowly and silently. The only sound came from Connie. He was singing Happy Birthday.

To be continued , , , ,

The Gift-Part 3-The Deal

THE GIFT-Part 3-The Deal

“I’m glad to meet you,” said the little tree. “My name is Connie, short for Coniferous. How can I help you?

“I want you to be my gift to Jesus.”

“I can’t do that, my work is to provide a home for the birds, and to shelter the rabbit that sleeps under my boughs. This summer, I had three families living in my branches. What will they do without me to shelter them?”

“The Boss will take care of them,” said Morty, “besides, there are many trees in the forest to help them. It is a great honor to do something special for Jesus’ birthday.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Let me take you home and decorate you for Christmas.”

Connie hesitated a bit, “If I choose to accept, then I am giving myself totally to the Baby Jesus. I can only stay alive as long as the sap in my branches will hold my needles.”

“I know that,” said Morty. “I picked you because you are magnificent, and I want to please God’s Son.  After we finish dressing you, I know you will make Jesus smile.”

“How will you decorate me?”

“I will lay strings of colorful lights on your boughs, and hang ornaments to reflect the light onto your needles My friends will string popcorn beads, painted pine cones, icicles, and snowflakes on your branches. We will put a crystal star on your top stem. You will look stunning. I’ll play Christmas carols to get into the spirit of Christmas. Then, after Christmas is over, I will use your branches to warm my house. Please do it.”

Connie agreed that pleasing Jesus on his day was important. He knew that Christmas was special. This was his chance to do something he could not do if he remained in the forest. If he stayed, he would grow big and tall and head for the sawmill.

After a long pause, Connie said, “It will be my honor to be your gift to Jesus.

To be continued . . .

The Gift-Part 2-Morty Pops the Question

Farmer Jim stopped in the field he was harvesting. Morty hopped off with the saw in his hand, and began to search.

My tree has to be perfect, he thought. It has to be shapely, and full, with branches all around. It cannot be too big because my room is small. Morty wandered through the rows of trees. Most of them were already five to six feet tall. Many had bare spots, and deformed branches. With so many trees, picking the right one was not easy.

“They all looked perfect from the air,” he said out loud. “They looked beautiful, but at ground level, they all have defects.”

He stopped in front of a Blue Spruce to ask for help.

“Please help me find the tree I need,” he said to a tree.  “I want one that is as tall as I am, but it can’t be too wide. My tree Has to have be shaped like a cone without bare spots. ”

“I was exactly like that three years ago.”

“So was I,” answered another spruce.

Morty kept walking up and down row after row of trees. He finally stopped in front of a very tall Balsam tree.

“Can you help me?”

“What do you want?

“I’m looking for the perfect tree to give Jesus for Christmas.”

“I can see the tree you want from here. Follow this road next to me. Count off twenty rows, turn left, and count another five trees. There, in the center of a small clearing you will find the tree you want.”

“Thanks,” said Morty. He took the Balsam’s directions, and counted as he walked. When he reached number twenty, he turned left and counted five more. There, in the center of a small clearing stood a beautiful blue-green spruce tree.  It was perfect.

I can’t believe it, he thought. Morty was speechless. He walked around the tree, looking for bare spots; there were none.

“It is as tall as I am, and it is shaped like a perfect cone.” He circled the tree over, and over, looking, and thinking, this tree will make a perfect present for Jesus. He examined the tree from all angles. He couldn’t find a single flaw.

He finally broke his silence, and spoke.

“Hi, I’m Morty Angel, would you like to be my gift to Baby Jesus?”

The Gift, Chapter One-Tree Farm

THE GIFT-Chapter One-Tree Farm

“There is the farm,” said Morty to himself. “Look at all those trees.”

He came to the sign: Covert Tree Farm, Christmas Trees for Sale. Morty slowed Sky-scooter, and made a sharp right turn into the opening between the trees. The gravel drive wound through a grove of spruce trees. The tall trees shaded the forest floor, and kept it dark.  Occasionally, a bird flitted from tree to tree and sang a sweet song. A beam of sunshine peeked through. God is shining a spotlight on me he thought. The ferns under the spotlight were lime green surrounded by dark green in the shade.

“These twists and turns are fun,” he said to Sky. He talked to his scooter whenever he was alone. Morty steered through forest leaning one way, then the other. His curl swayed from side to side. He was anxious to find the perfect present for his Boss. An opening of bright light led into the meadow where the farmer lived.

He spotted the sign for parking, and another sign on the barn stated rules for cutting Christmas trees.

1. Cut the tree at the ground. Do not cut in the middle.

2. Use only the saw provided.

3. Bring your tree to the barn for wrapping.

4. Trees are $8.00 per foot.

Morty grabbed a saw and jumped onto the hay wagon behind the tractor. A cow mooed, and the horse whinnied in the barn. Chickens wandered all around the barnyard pecking for seed. He sat and looked around while he waited for the farmer.

Gosh, look at all those trees. They surround the entire pasture as far as I can see. He daydreamed while he sat waiting.

Farmer Jim raises trees. He sells some at Christmas, and takes the large ones to the lumber mill in the town. He plants replacement trees to keep the forest alive. It takes fifty years to grow a tree big enough to sell for lumber, and twelve years to grow a tree tall enough for Christmas.

Morty sat staring at the trees and talking to himself. I love coming to the tree farm. It is fun to explore the woods. The forest is beautiful, peaceful, quiet, and majestic. I talk to them and they talk to me. When we are alone I hug them.

Farmer Jim had a secret grove of old trees. He never cut these trees nor did his father, grandfather, or great-grandfather. His great-grandfather told him that they were there when he came to the farm in 1875. Some of them were two hundred feet tall. Morty discovered the grove last year, and fell in love with the old trees. His favorite was over two hundred years old. It lived through much of the history of our country. The big tree was a teenager when the very first settlers moved to the valley from the east.

I have to find a tree to give to baby Jesus on his birthday. I will invite my friends to help decorate, and make it special. The hay wagon jerked forward, and broke his thoughts. He was on his way to find the perfect tree.

When Hollywood Swears Not To Make Movies With Guns

Gun Control

Gun Control (Photo credit: cgulyas2002)

Those who know what Communism is and what it stands for realize that Progressivism is a code word for Communism. Before Progressivism was invented the code word was called Liberalism. It seems the ideology needs a new name to describe it every so often to fool the people into thinking it is something different, new, and exciting. Communism is a simple-minded ideology: “What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is mine.”

There are several reasons researched by the late Paul Harvey for why we must not cannot allow a loss of our Second Amendment rights:

In 1929 the Soviet Union established gun control. From 1929 to 1953, approximately 20 million dissidents, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.

In 1911, Turkey established gun control. From 1915-1917, 1.5 million Armenians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.

Germany established gun control in 1938 and from 1939 to 1945, 13 million Jews, gypsies, homosexuals, the mentally ill, and others, who were unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.

China established gun control in 1935. From 1948 to 1952, 20 million political dissidents, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.

Guatemala established gun control in 1964. From 1964 to 1981, 100,000 Mayan Indians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.

Uganda established gun control in 1970. From 1971 to 1979, 300,000 Christians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.

Gun control works great to protect the bad guys.

I for one, do not trust Obama and his administration from taking the route that some of the above countries took.

Take this approach: Give up your Second  Amendment rights when Hollywood swears on the bible and the koran not to produce any movies that have gun crimes in the story, and demonstrates it for ten years.

Crazy Is As Crazy Does

121219-Two Faces of Gun Control

TWO FACES OF GUN CONTROL

So many things have happened while I slaved in Santa’s workshop. I can’t believe it all. The new furor about gun control really irks me. I will give up  my gun when Hollywood refuses to make any movies with stories that involve guns. I do think the U.S. should outlaw crazies. I’m sure our Progressive Liberal élite think tanks can come up with a suitable test to decide which of us is inclined to be a crazy who shoots innocent children and conservative people. Once they have that test solidified, they can begin putting it to use by gassing everyone who tests positive for crazy.

Of course guns are not the only things that kill school kids while they are in school. Back in the nineteen-fifties a school fire at Our Lady of the Angels Catholic school in Chicago killed ninety-two kids. These kids died a very painful slow death not a quick sudden one. Yes, we should ban fire. There shouldn’t be any open flame allowed anywhere within a block of a school building. That means no furnaces to keep kids warm in winter. They can use electric heat instead. Of course we all know that electrical problems cause fires too. Yep, lets ban electricity too.

The U.S. government is also responsible for promoting crazy. Let’s talk about Fast and Furious. The idea of shipping guns to Mexico to find crazies across the border is really a gem. How about Benghazi-gate. Shipping guns to the Libyans resulted in them using these U.S. provided weapons to kill our embassy ambassador and three others. During the Russian occupation of Afghanistan the U.S. fed guns to the Afghan rebels who now use them against us. The list goes on and on. Instead of stopping the problem at its root-cause we attack the Constitution. The Second Amendment provides we the Sheeple with the ability to revolt against a government gone wild. The government knows this and fears the idea. That is exactly what the Founders intended with the right. The problem is that we the Sheeple haven’t figured out how to revolt. We are way too comfortable watching violent TV shows and movies that promote gun crime, or play our video games that fill our sub conscious minds with the ease of solving problems with the push of a button.

I don’t know what the answer is to keeping crazies from killing with guns, but I do know that collecting all the guns in America is not the solution. If it were, we must incarcerate smokers because cigarettes kill far more people than guns. Cancer is also another killer, i.e. after heart attacks. Maybe a law banning the consumption of all fatty foods is in order. Yeah shut down MacDonalds, Burger King, Wendys. Taco Bell, Culvers, What a Burger, In and Out Burger, and every pizza joint in the country. That move would kill another several million jobs and cause more of us to go on welfare.

Another killer is the automobile. I lay awake at night fearing a middle of night attack by my faithful Death Star parked in the garage. I say ban all cars except the President’s. He needs to ride in a bullet-proof, bomb-proof vehicle to stay safe. People argue “you can’t do that,  how will we get to work?” Tough, if you still have a job, try riding a bicycle to work, or ride a bus. The Greens would love that. Think of all the carbon load you would cut by walking instead of driving that killer car.

A stationary car cannot kill anyone, unless rigged to blow up like a bomb. A stationary gun cannot kill anyone. The only way these instruments of destruction can kill is if there is a crazy using it. When it comes to cars, I argue that we are all guilty of some form of crazy. We have laws to punish us if we speed, run red-lights, drink, and drive, but we still do it. The problem is we all feel in control and do it anyway. Legislating to prevent crazies from committing a crime is as crazy as the crazy himself.

The Christmas Lights Ride in Frankfort, Illinois

The little town of Frankfort Illinois dolls up for Christmas every year by donning lights on its centerpiece park “The Breidert Green.” The mayor presides over the tree lighting ceremony and the season is officially open.

The lights brighten up long dark weary nights and add a festivity to the air. Combine that with the Mid-night Madness sale on a Friday night and the sleepy town stays up late to celebrate.

About ten years ago, I led a Folks on Spokes bike ride on a Friday night called the Christmas Lights Ride. Twenty of us met in the empty town parking lot at 5:30 p.m. The route I charted took us around the town on the most brightly decorated streets. I charted the ride to visit every neighborhood in town starting with the historic district and winding through each subdivision. The darkest stretch was along the Old Plank Trail which allowed us to cross route 45 a major thoroughfare safely. After an hour of slow riding a chill beset us and there was a mist in the air. One rider, dressed as he would for a twenty-mile an hour training ride was on the verge of hypothermia, so I directed him to the town center via a short cut to a warming place. The rest of the troupe valiantly proceeded for another half hour. The grand finale took us down Ginger Lane where the folks decorate the parkway trees as well as their homes. Residents wrap each tree trunk with green lights, and the canopy is strung in white. Riding down this curvy street arched in lights has a magic about it to put a person in the right Christmas spirit. Most of us had decorated our bicycles with battery powered mini lights to make the entourage just as intriguing. The neighbors who were out walking the displays, and those still hanging lights were surprised to see a chain of lighted bicycles powered by riders with Santa hats, reindeer antlers and Elf adornments streaming down the street all lit up. We ended the ride ready for a meal. A rider asked me if I made reservations at a restaurant. I replied, “in this sleepy town at this hour there will be no need for reservations.”

Upon our return at 7:30 cold, and damp there was a marked difference in town. There were cars parked everywhere. We scurried to load our bikes onto our cars and to head to the Kansas Street Grill across the street. I hurried across the street to get a table arranged while the rest of the group locked their bikes.

“I’m sorry sir, but the wait is forty-five minutes.”

“What?”

“Forty-five minutes.” That folks, is how I learned about Frankfort’s Midnight Madness.

At this point, I had twenty surly and hungry bike riders who had one thing on their mind, well several things: get warm, get a drink, get some food.

Don’t panic, I said to myself. Think!

“Let’s all go to visit Brent at the bike shop across the street,” I said.

Thankfully Brent a fellow bike club member welcomed us with open arms. Next door to Brent’s bike shop was a new pizza place with an empty room. I walked in and asked how long it would take them to seat a party of twenty.

“Ten minutes,” was the reply.

“Thank you Lord,” I whispered under my breath. I went next door to tell the group the new plan and to drink some warm cider.

The Christmas Lights Ride launched Tony’s Villa Rosa that night. The place became a village focal point from that point on until Tony decided he didn’t love his wife anymore and divorced her for another woman. Tony’s Villa Rosa is no longer in business.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Bhutadarma

Nothing is impossible (at least that does not violate the laws of physics). When you can..violate the laws of physics!

I Know I Made You Smile

cartoons/humor/fiction/nonfiction

Attila Ovari

Loving Life and Inspiring Others

galesmind

Come take a journey through my mind

Nutsrok

The humor and humanity of storytelling.

Henry Game

The Next Testament

Gamintraveler

Travel Couple and Digital Nomads on a World Travel

summershaffer

A topnotch WordPress.com site

blogsense-by-barb

at the Re-Birth of America!

The Honking Goose

something to honk about

THE WAKING GIANT

United States Second Amendment Pitbull

Caustic Synergy

United and alone in the world

Aspiring Conservative

Conservative blog with articles about today's politics!

Conservative Kentucky

Reality From my Perspective

Hearing Aid News

HEAR it HERE first! The latest on developments in hearing aids and the hearing industry.

Socialism is not the Answer

Limited Government Is

leaf and twig

where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry

Just Cruisin 2

Where Intellectuals and Rednecks foregather.

allaboutlemon-All Around, In, And Out Of My Own Universe

Greed is an ugly default... Sharing is Caring

Nhan Fiction

"Hope is my catalyst."

prophetbrahmarishi

Just another WordPress.com site

NuVote Reach

Political Co-Dependency Intervention

The Baggage Handler

I made the impossible easy in both worlds!

David Emeron: Sonnets

If I swore not to describe my heart, would it stop beating forever?

silkroadcollector.me

An International company that offers private antique art sales to clients around the globe.