Let me take you back in time to December 5 years ago, I was newly engaged and on a plane with my fiance on our way to Ohio to meet my future in-laws. Now most of you know that I was born and raised in Central Texas where our winters consist mostly of 50 degree days with beautiful blue skies and the occasional ice storm. I had never been around real snow, not the powdery stuff you see on TV and I was super excited. When we got off the plane at Cleveland’s airport and I stepped outside I completely lost my breath (you know the way babies do when you blow in their little faces). It was COLD! And snow was everywhere.

It was evening so I didn’t get out in it much that night, but the following day it was time to play. I was like a

kid in the proverbial candy story, itching with excitement. So on my first day with the white stuff here’s what I learned.

And please note that you will now understand who the idiot is in my blog’s title. And you Yankees can feel free to laugh at me, it’s okay, I deserve it.

Snow is wet - Now I’m not sure what I was expecting since this is simply frozen precipitation, but the fact that I got all wet when I made a snow angel was a big surprise to me.

Scarves are good – There is a reason people in the north wear scarves. Until this trip, I never understood the value of a scarf, but I get it now so that the snow doesn’t fall down your collar and chill your neck.

Snow gets hard - No luckily I didn’t have to learn this the hard way (pardon the pun), but I easily could have. On that first day when we went out so I could play in the snow, there was a lovely and huge pile of snow right by my in-law’s garage. Now in retrospect I do realize that what follows was incredibly foolish for a variety of reasons. Number 1, I’d never been to my in-laws and for all I knew there was a brick wall under that snow. And well, as my fiances eyes grew round and panic etched his features as I free-fell backwards into the powder, I learned that sometimes snow can be hard. But as I said, I was lucky and it wasn’t and my fall was wonderfully childish and fun.

Snow is so quiet - this isn’t so much an idiot’s lesson, but again I was relatively surprised by how quiet the snow is when it falls. It’s peaceful and solemn and beautiful and if it weren’t so darn cold I’d want to see it everyday.

We’re up here now in snowy NE Ohio and having a great time. We’re excpected more snow today and the rest of our time here, and there’s still one thing I’ve never done…make a snowman. So hopefully I’ll get the opportunity to do so this time. How about you? Do you love the snow? Have you ever been surprised by a new place you visited?

Oh and Happy New Year!

The Geek and I always travel for Christmas. Since we have family all over Texas, each holiday season, we load the kids up on the Texas bus system (ie. Southwest Airlines) and head first for Dallas and then for Lubbock before drag our exhausted selves back to our home in the hill country.

It makes for a long week, but it’s filled with family and fun and I wouldn’t have it any other way. We always fly, because … well, Texas is big. Five or hours in traffic up to Dallas wouldn’t be bad, but tack on the five more hours to Lubbock and the nine hours home to Austin and that’s just too much time in the car for us.

This year we planned to fly up to Dallas early on the morning of Christmas eve. Planned being the key word there. Our plane was trapped by bad weather in Lubbock and our flight was delayed. And then delayed indefinitely. And then cancelled. More flights were cancelled. Airports were closed down. We were some of the lucky ones. After eight hours in the airport, we finally boarded a plane and made it up to Dallas and the comfort of my sister’s amazing cookies.

Being trapped at an airport on Christmas eve is an odd experience. All those hours of waiting, the emotional highs and lows. The stress of rushing through security only to wait and wait and wait.

You’d think they kids would have had a tough time. After all, it was Christmas Eve! They’d been looking forward to playing with cousins and opening presents. But–and I say this with no small amount of maternal pride–my kids did great. They were such troopers. Not a single complaint. No temper tantrums. Nothing.

In fact, all the kids at the airport were great. Strangers played together, sharing toys and Cheezits. Big kids played hide and seek with the younger ones. My girl actually had so much fun playing with one family, she insisted we give them our number so we can make a play date.

I was so proud of how all the kids just took it in stride and didn’t freak out.  Knowing they weren’t stressed out allowed me to keep my cool. And it reminded me that any day you have good company to share can be a holiday.

Some of the other adults didn’t fair to well. I don’t blame them. Some people spent all day there right with us only to find out that their final destination airport had been closed and they’d just as soon go home. I talked to one father worried that his kid’s presents had been sent on an earlier flight. The poor guy was thinking about stopping by Toys R Us just so his kids could have something to open on Christmas morning.

For the most part, the adults behaved too, though there were a few tears and a little yelling (none from me, I promise!) The thing is, I don’t remember ever being stranded at an airport before. Certainly not for such a long time or on such an important day. The whole experience was surreal. Boring, yet packed with heightened emotions.

I can’t help but remember some of my favorite songs and moves are about this very subject. The song, Flyer, by Nanci Griffith. (Which, if you’ve never heard, you should go listen to right now!) The movie Planes, Trains and Automobiles and … well, I’m sure there’s another one somewhere that I’m too tired to think of right now.

Have you ever been stuck at an airport? Or worse, missed a holiday due to back travel conditions?

I ran across this article a couple of weeks ago and thought I’d share. I love this stuff! Read through and then let me know which one tickled your fancy. From The Washington Post:

These are the results from Week 310 of The Washington Post’s Style Invitational, published March 14, 1999 in which readers were asked to come up with lame analogies. The line separating painfully bad analogies from weirdly good ones is as thin as a soup made from the shadow of a chicken that was starved to death by Abraham Lincoln. And so we had to create a separate category to honor those entries that came too close to actual literature to qualify as “bad.” Here they are:

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli, and he was room temperature Canadian beef.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another
city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

Ah, family. That’s what this time of year is all about, right?

Family is huge part of my books. Like me, my heroines place a lot of value on family. And like the families in my books, my own family is riddled with inside jokes, ancient wounds and habits so ingrained not even a back hoe could change them. So, in honor of the holidays, here are a few little glimpses into my family life.

When my in-laws visit, McIrish hides. He heartily denies this, but it’s true, and besides, I’m blogging and he’s not. But when his parents visit, he just fades away. I find him hours later, leaning against the furnace, chatting with one of his brothers. Or he takes out the garbage, which makes him remember that his truck’s oil needs a’changing, and apparently it can’t wait another minute. During this time, this hour or so of absence, I get the inside skinny on his large family back in Ireland — who had the new baby, who’s taking a trip, who’s sick, who’s getting married. Later, when I update him on these events, he’s always a little irritated that I know more than he does.

As a group, we are incapable of ordering in restaurants. I am extremely blessed in that I live close to New Haven, where pizza was invented. My aunts and uncles and siblings and cousins all like to get together a few times a year and visit Modern Apizza on State Street, where allegedly Jesus goes for pizza, because that’s how good it is. When the waitress comes, there’s a flurry of contradiction — “I didn’t say I wanted eggplant! But if you want eggplant, that’s fine with me. But get what you want. I’m fine. I’ll eat anything.” The proper response to this is, “Well, I don’t care. I also like everything. Get what you want.”  The waitress sighs loudly. Inevitably, when the pizzas come,  someone’s disappointed. “We didn’t order eggplant on anything? Oh. Well. I happen to love eggplant, but…”

My family is loud. What I love — and what I’m guilty of myself — is how everyone thinks everyone else is loud. My own dear mother still shouts into the phone, especially when talking to her brother in California, as if my uncle needs her to yell so he can hear across the miles. My darling aunt from Massachusetts can be heard from, well, Massachusetts. My uncles laugh so loudly that people jump and cower.

The people in my family regress when together. Suddenly, my ultra-mature and very brilliant daughter is showing just how far her eyes can cross. My son is eating under the table, like some poor feral raccoon. My sister does her medley of strange faces and animal noises (very well, I might add). I myself demonstrate my great talent of dangling a spoon from the end of my nose. Genius.

By the end of the holidays, I’m longing for solitude…until one of my relatives calls, that is, and says, “Hey, we’re getting together…you in?” To which I instantly reply, “Absolutely!”

Any odd family traditions or traits in your gang? Are you longing for your relatives to go home, or are you the type who can’t get enough family time?

Thanks to all of you who posted. I really enjoyed your responses.

Leslie was the winner of my drawing. But I thought I’d also offer a free book to anyone who posted this weekend who has not yet won one of my drawings.

So, Leslie and whoever else meets the above criteria….just email me at cindykirk @ aol . com (getting rid of the spaces) and let me know your full name and address and I’ll put Merry Christmas, Cowboy! in the mail to you. If you already have it, let me know and I’ll find another book to send you.

I’ve always sent out Christmas cards. No matter how busy I am I find the time.

I used to write a note in each of them. For the past ten years I’ve inserted a brief one page Christmas letter updating friends and family on what’s going on in our lives. (And no, it’s definitely not a brag letter)

I love getting letters, especially from friends who live far away. I send out about 40 cards every year and usually get about the same number each year. Not this year. I only received about fifteen.

I was talking to a couple of friends and they admit their numbers are down this year, too. It got me to wonder if Christmas cards are becoming a bygone tradition.

What do you think? Do you send cards? Like to get them? Are your numbers down too this year?

The name of everyone who posts will go into a drawing. One lucky person will win a copy of Merry Christmas, Cowboy! (Silhouette Special Edition November 2009) If you already have it, I’ll find another book for you that you don’t have.

Every romantic hero and heroine will be finding something special in their Christmas stockings from their lovers. Here’s what the Jaunties’ characters are doing for each other this year! If you can take a few minutes out of your busy day, please tell the Jaunties what your favorite part of this day has been.

Cindy Kirk’s Merry Christmas Cowboy: Seth would be most likely to jam a cabbage patch doll in Lauren’s stocking.  This is because that particular type of doll was a gift she’d desperately wanted as a child but never received.

Kristan Higgins’ The Next Best Thing: I think Ethan would give Lucy a really cool retro apron, since she’s a baker. And Lucy would give Ethan a Chia head, because wo wouldn’t love a Chia head?

Margo Maguire’s Taken by the Laird: Hugh is going to compose a new set of marriage vows and write them on an expensive piece of vellum, then put his beside Brianna’s in a gilded frame. Because the vows he said when he was forced to marry her were nothing special. Not at all. 

Dawn, the half-Nightmare heroine from Kathryn Smith’s Dark Side of Dawn, would probably buy her hero, Noah a bunch of organic grooming products for men from Sephora, her favorite store. She would then buy a bunch of stuff for herself as well. Then she’d go to an upscale dept store and buy him some new jeans because his are all torn. She’d probably buy him a shirt she’d like to see him in also. Then, she’d go to their makeup dept and spend more money on herself. Oh, and she’d buy a new pair of shoes — for herself. She would then go to the jewelry dept and buy Noah a nice stainless steel bracelet — nothing too fussy because he wouldn’t like that. And she’d probably get a big pair of funky costume jewelry earrings for herself. And finally she go into Noah’s dreams and do all she could do to make the good ones come true, because she’s literally the woman of his dreams, and he’s the man of hers.

Julien, in Shana Galen’s The Making of a Duchess, would give Sarah a tonic that cures the ailing stomach and intestines. The government of England thinks the duc is a spy for the French, and she, a simple governess, has been sent in to secretly uncover his treachery. The task gives poor Sarah more than a few twinges in her belly.

In Emily McKay’s  January book, Affair with a Rebel Heiress, the heroine Kitty Biedermann has sold off her family home and several family heirlooms to funnel money into her company, Biedermann’s Jewelry. I think the hero, Ford Langley, would hunt down her great-grandmother’s Victorian necklace and buy it back for her. It would make the perfect stocking stuffer and the gesture would mean the world to her.

Reid Barclay, the hero in Janette Kenny’s A Cowboy Christmas, would surely buy Ellie Jo a cookbook or two, and a newfangled stove that cooked evenly, because she surely burns everything on that old woodstove. Not that he complains overmuch, for he wouldn’t mnind a repeat of sharing a burned pie and more than a few kisses with her in the pie pantry.

In Katherine Garbera’s The Moretti Heir, Marco will be putting a brand new charm bracelet in Virginia’s stocking this Christmas with charms from he collected as they travelled on the Grand Prix circuit.   They are both giving their son Lorenzo a tiny version of the Moretti Motors Vallerio roadster and Marco can tell that his son has the same love for racing and speed as both he and his legendary grandfather did.

Aldwin Treynarde, hero of Catherine Kean’s medieval A Knight’s Temptation (Knights Series Book 3), would buy Lady Leona Ransley a gold pendant.  This is sure to bring a smile to Leona’s face.  Their love was sparked by Aldwin’s quest to retrieve an exquisite ruby pendant Leona had in her possession and return it to his lord, a mission that prompted Aldwin to kidnap her.  Keeping the pendant safe led them on a dangerous, exciting, sexy adventure together that caused them to fall in love.  While they snuggle by the crackling fire, sharing a goblet of mulled wine, Leona will no doubt find a suitable way to thank Aldwin for his gift.

Nancy Robards Thompson: A portion of my book, An Angel in Provence, takes place during the holidays. So I guess you’ll just have to read it and see what they put in each other’s stockings. But without giving anything away, the hero Philippe would put lavender bath salts and red nail polish (for her toes) in Rita’s stocking, and Rita would give Philippe an antique Provencal “Welcome Home” sign. All very significant to the story.

If the characters of Terri Brisbin’s book, A Storm of Passion, were to celebrate Christmas (year-end festivities did happen in medieval Scotland and among the Norse, but nothing like what we think of as ‘Christmas’), Connor and Moira would give each other a celebration filled with family and friends — something they were both lacking during most of their lives and something that is the most important thing to them now.  Happy Christmas to you all!

Yesterday my sister and her family came in for Christmas and today she and I started our annual baking. Every year she comes with new recipes to try and this year was no different. My family tends to favor easy, cheap recipes that don’t take a ton of time or ingredients and save for my sugar cookies, then I accomplish this with the things I make – mock toffee, peanut butter fudge, ritz/peanut-butter cookies and peppermint bark. But I have to share my sister’s recipes because this year all she’s making are balls, and she’s dipping almost everything in candy coating bark.

So here goes new recipes for you to try – or perhaps you’ve had these in your neck of the woods.

Oreo balls

1 pkg oreo cookies
1 8oz cream cheese
candy coating bark

Put oreo cookies in a food processor and blend until crumbly. Add in cream cheese and mix together. Form into balls, then dip them in the melted candy coating bark and let set until hardened on wax paper.

Cake balls

1 cake mix(any flavor though for the holidays Red-velvet seems to be a favorite)
1 can of frosting

Prepare and bake cake according to box, let cool. Break cake into pieces and mix it together with tub of frosting. Form into balls, then dip them in the melted candy coating bark and let set until hardened on wax paper.

Orange balls

1 box of vanilla wafers
4 oz. frozen orange juice concentrate
1/2 box powdered sugar

Mix all ingredients together in food processor. Roll into balls. Can roll balls into more powdered sugar, crushed nuts, or coconut.

Perhaps strange recipes, but the men here seem to like them quite a bit. I prefer the oreo balls dipped in the chocolate bark rather than the white chocolate bark, but I’m just not a fan of white chocolate. I think I might have shared my peanut butter fudge recipes in the past, but I’ll share it again in case anyone is interested – it’s so easy it’s ridiculous.

Peanut butter fudge

1 bag Reece’s peanut butter chips
1 can white frosting

Melt peanut butter chips, then add in tub of white frosting and stir until well blended. Pour into dish and let harden in the refrigerator. Cut into pieces and serve.

So how about you? Have you tried any new recipes for Christmas? I know we’ve talked a lot about baking and whatnot on here lately, but you can never have enough good Christmas treats.

Christmas! Somehow I’ve managed to hang onto the thrill of watching the approach of Christmas morning. I love the bright, pretty lights! I love the smell of pine trees and tins of Quality Street chocolates (mostly just the caramels) I love to buy gifts. I love to wrap gifts, but most of all I love to see those gifts under the tree with my name on them! I love to unwrap them and see the ones I’ve wrapped torn open in their turn.

Now, before you peg me as materialist (and yes, I am to an extent), let me just say that I don’t care how many gifts there are or how much they cost. Simply seeing those brightly wrapped packages tickles me, reminding me of childhood anticipation. I simply cannot wait for my husband and I (and the 4 cats) to sit down Christmas morning and tear into the presents, both of us eager to see the other’s face when said gift is revealed.

Some of my favorite and earliest memories are from Christmas. I remember the year I got my white tea set. It came in a dark green box. I was 4, I think. I remember the year I got my red record player AND Shaun Cassidy’s Da Doo Ron Ron album. Oh! My Colorful Candi doll was another fave one other year. And how I loved my Jamie Summers doll (with leg panels and roll away rubber arm covering that revealed her ‘bionics’). That was the same year I got the Bionic Woman ‘Dome’ house, complete with funky ’70′s fireplace.

Later, Christmas wasn’t about the toys so much. We didn’t have a lot of money and my oldest sister spoiled me rotten when she got her first job. This continued for far more years than it should have (thanks, Heather!).  The year I was 17 my parents got me a desk and a typewriter — an electronic one. How many partial books and angsty poems I wrote on that thing! I loved it. That would be the last Christmas before my parents split up.

When I was 24 I began dating this fabulous guy. Our first Christmas I got him a Superman T-shirt and he got me a poster of John William Waterhouse’s “La Belle Dame Sans Merci”. I still have the print and the guy. And yes, he still has the T-shirt. Now, 14 years later, we’ve got the tree up and decorated, the bottom of it filled with way more gifts than any two people deserve. The kittens have climbed the tree and played with the ornaments, and sometimes I like to plug in the lights and just stand there and admire how pretty it is — and think about how lucky we are.

We used to tease my sister (Heather again!) about making sure she took pictures of Nanny B every Christmas and saying, “This could be her last!” until, of course, her last Christmas rolled around. The photo of her was Nan as we all remember her — smiling a smile that was far too naughty for a 94 year-old, wearing a bright Christmas-red sweater.

Last year one of our dearest friends was in the hopsital, recovering from a surgery that saved her life. We took a little tree into her hospital room and decorated it. And when she recovered enough, we had a late Christmas in January. That year will remain one of the special ones because we were just so happy to have her with us. This year we’re spending Christmas Eve with her — and her husband.

This will be the first Christmas my mother doesn’t go to one of my sister’s houses. Her dementia has gotten to the point where she hates to be away from her snug little room in the senior’s complex where she’s lived for several years now. Thankfully, she won’t mind. And the family will go to visit her. How odd is it that out of all these Christmas’s I don’t remember the last one I spent with my mother? I guess it’s been about 8-9 years since I lived in Nova Scotia and could get home for the holidays. Sometimes I think I should have paid more attention to that last one, that someday it will be important for me to remember it. But it doesn’t stand out. If I’d known that it was our last in the house I grew up in, with my mom, I would have tried harder to remember.  I have a photo of her taken last Christmas and in my head, I think what Heather used to say about Nan, and wonder if we’ll start taking a photo of her every year.

So this Christmas, I will surround myself with my friends and my wonderful husband and my sweet kitties. I will call my family and have long chats about food and gifts and I get weepy and wish that I was there, and then when they tell me how much snow they have, I’ll be glad I’m not!

I think that’s the wonderful part of the holiday season — the emotions that come with it. It’s not just a time for happiness and laughter, but a time to reflect and remember. I’m never more thankful or giving than I am at Christmas. I wish I could maintain that kind of feeling all year, but it would simply be too exhausting! Still, I cannot wait to watch The Muppet’s Christmas Carol with the hubby while drinking candy cane-laced hot chocolate. The story of Scrooge drives home the importance of Christmas memories and the spirit of the season.

And as I watch Michael Caine remember what Christmas is all about, I remember what it’s all about. I think of the gift I got my sister (Lynda this time) and how I’m pretty sure she’ll cry when she opens it — but she cries at anything — and I smile. I write clues on my husband’s gifts because we like to see if the other one can guess what’s underneath the paper.  On Christmas day we’ll learn if our guesses were right. I’ll call my mother and we’ll laugh for a bit and she’ll tell me how much chocolate she’s eaten because she can’t seem to get enough of the stuff. Then we’ll have more turkey than a human should ingest and spend the rest of the day with friends. We may even go see Sherlock Holmes. Regardless, I’m sure there will be something special about this Christmas that will make it one to remember.

I’ll make sure of it.

What are some of your Christmas memories?

I’m posting this early as a public service announcement….really…. Everyone needs to know that winter officially begins today – December 21 – at 12:47pm EST! Aren’t you excited? I am….

Scientifically the solstice looks like this>>>>>  the earth wobbles until the southern half gets all the sunlight and the northern part doesn’t. The South Pole is light 24 hours a day while the North Pole is in darkness.  Got it? Okay, now onto the fun….

The Winter Solstice has been observed since Neolithic times all over the world but one of the best known places is in Scotland, the Orkney Islands to be specific. The builders of Maes Howe aligned the structure so that the rays of the setting sun flow down the entrance tunnel to hit the back wall of the chamber.  I crawled/shimmied into the tomb on a tour, gawked at the Viking graffiti and imagined what it would be like to stand in the chamber and witness the sun’s approach. This is what it would look like >>>>

(BTW – you can witness it yourself if you visit www.maeshowe.co.uk NOW!!)

In history, the end of December was the time to celebrate Saturnalia — it was a week-long feast honoring the Roman god Saturn and featured a reversal in roles, lots of partying, bonfires/candles, presents and, did I mention, feasting! It was held when winter’s grasp was at its strongest and there was even a ‘king’ designated for the celebration who, unfortunately for him, was sacrificed at the end of it! Oh my!

When Christianity became prominent, many local and pagan feasts (um, like Saturnalia) were converted into

Christian feasts and holy days and it’s probably not a coincidence that the Nativity is celebrated at the end of December, even though many Biblical scholars agree that Jesus was probably born in the late spring or even early summer. The Christian Church capitalized on existing practices and borrowed them for their needs. And so, Christmas was scheduled in late December.

Another well-known festival of winter is, of course, Yule… or Juul, a Scandinavian feast to mark the returning sun. People cut a huge log, dragged it indoors and burned it until only ashes were left. Mistletoe was used to decorate, too.  BTW — this feast happened to be 12 days long…. sound familiar?

But, other than Christmas, none of these is my favorite celebration of the solstice. . . for years, I’ve waited and waited for this time of year to celebrate. . . The Festival of Bells!!  Yes, it’s the time of year when Fraggle Rock slows to a stop and unless someone finds and rings the bell at the center of the rock, all the Fraggles will stop, frozen in time and place!!  It’s a harrowing time of year and it’s nerve-wracking watching the classic episode and hoping and praying that Gobo will find the bell. My family has watched the show every year on our also classic VCR on an aging VCR tape until the series was finally released on DVD – now we have a brand- spanking-new edition and we still watch it.

Because, you see, on a grander scale this episode speaks to our need to believe in something bigger than ourselves, our need to have faith in things we can’t see and can’t prove and in our need to surround ourselves with our loved ones and to hope for a better world, a better life and a new year. So, on this Winter Solstice day, let’s all look ahead to longer days, more warmth and the festivities of the holidays as they quickly approach.

So, as my family gathers to watch the Fraggles and to remember the days when I was one of the two tallest people in my family, I want to wish you and yours a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. As my friends, the Anglo-Saxons use to say during their solstice celebration. . . . Waes Hael!!

Do you or your family have a favorite Christmas/holiday tv show that you watch each year? Something like “The Bells of Fraggle Rock” or “A Muppet Christmas” or one of the other holiday specials or concerts? Share it by posting a comment about why it’s special to you and Terri will choose two commentors who will each win a copy of one of her favorites plus an autographed book.

Terri

Terri is also celebrating the release of her December Brava romance, A STORM OF PASSION.  Visit her website at www.terribrisbin.com to enter her Viking World Tour contest.