DECEMBER 23, 2025

VOLUME ONE

First of all, that picture isn’t me or any of my family members, just a photo I grabbed off the internet. Why not an authentic photo? Because I’m too dang lazy to climb up in the loft and go through old photo albums. I seem to get lazier the older I get. Last night after dinner, my dog and I retired to the big recliner, and I promptly went to sleep and woke up about 10:00 pm. There just ain’t nothin’ like a big ol’ recliner and a warm doggie. Now this wasn’t the smartest move, because by the time I actually went to bed I was wide awake. Aren’t you supposed to get smarter the older you get? Well, I don’t think it’s working on me.

I can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that it’s Christmas again already. It seems like it was only last week we were camping on the coast enjoying the wonderful pacific northwest summer. This year has been a blur; it’s like our lives are on “fast forward”. We don’t have any family anywhere close, they all bailed out for the southwest and sunshine. Left the old timers up here in the mucky wet, cold weather. That said it’s a little hard to really catch the Christmas spirit with no youngins around. So, the last few days, I have been doing a little reminiscing about Christmases we had when I was a youngin.

Men go through four phases of life. 1. You believe in Santa Clause 2. You no longer believe in Santa Clause 3. You become Santa Clause 4. You look like Santa Clause. I don’t remember when I figured out my dad was really Santa, but we still carried on the tradition of opening gifts on Christmas morning as long as I lived in my parent’s home. I carried on the tradition with my own family until my kids got married. It’s a wonderful tradition, so many wonderful memories from those days.

This is where I have to honor my parents. My father was an orphan, parents died when he was about 10 years old. Ran away from the orphans home at 16. Pretty loosely connected family from the hills of southeastern Oklahoma. Real deal red necks. He never looked back, was on his own from 16 years old on. Met my mom when he was nineteen, married her at twenty. She was eighteen.

My mom’s family was fairly large, four sisters, two brothers. They lived in a two-room shanty with no running water. Pure poverty. Father was an alcoholic, died from alcoholism in 1942. Whatever money the family had, he drank it. My grandmother lived in that house until her death sometime in the late 60’s. She had bed, a radio, an above floor heater, a kitchen stove, refrigerator and a table. I remember a small table by her easy chair. She probably had four dresses and a couple of pair of shoes when she died. In spite of having virtually nothing, she had a wonderful attitude, and a sweet personality until the day she died. The woman never owned a bathtub or an automobile.

In spite of their childhoods, my parents were about as good as they come. My dad was rock steady in every way. My mom was a loving, caring, hardworking housewife that looked after her kids like they were pure gold. I can remember her staying by my side when I was sick with the normal childhood diseases like mumps, measles, chicken pox, and all of my other childhood ailments. Likewise with my older sisters. Love and laughter was present in our home around the clock.

As you can see, my parents took their jobs very seriously. They made sure every holiday was a fun family event. But they went the extra mile to make sure Christmas was special. My mom and sisters would make candy and cookies for several days before Christmas, my mom and dad would buy an assortment of nuts and fruits to munch on during holidays. My dad was a good marksman, and always brought home a large turkey from the “turkey shoot”. (look it up)

This may sound like we were a wealthy family. Nope! My dad was a welder in a boiler shop, my mom was a homemaker. My mom was a very frugal homemaker. She saved what little money she had throughout the year, so her family could have a nice Christmas. Not an elaborate Christmas, but ample. The gifts although simple and not expensive were cherished treasures. Christmas was pure magic in our home. The weeks leading up to Christmas were exciting and filled with anticipation. And we always visited my granny in her little, tiny house with her little, tiny Christmas tree.

As old people, our Christmases may be a lot quieter, and a little different, but we have wonderful memories of times past, and lot of close friends with similar lives. We are going to have Christmas dinner with some our dear friends and my grandson from Seattle, so it’s going to be another memorable Christmas for the books. Lot’s of love and laughter, and good food.

I sincerely hope all of you have a joyous Christmas holiday, and a wonderful New Year. God bless you all.

VERITAS VINCIT ~ LIVE FREE OR DIE