A Christmas Disaster - Part 4

I hope you all are ready for this next part of A Christmas Disaster because here it is!

Last week . . .
    Bennett grinned. “Well, we were a mess today.” He sobered. “I sure hope Monday’s practice goes better. If not, the play is likely to be the worst ever instead of the best.”
    “You know if won’t be the worst ever,” Mia said confidently. “It can’t be.”
    Her brothers exchanged glances and turned to look at her. “Why couldn’t it be?”
    “Because our puppies are in the play, and we have a real horse.”
    Exploding into laughter, the boys leaned against the fence and rocked with mirth. When at last Derek could speak, he gasped out, “Oh, Mia, you’re priceless!” and then went off into another laughing spell.

    Monday did go better and even Mr. Sheets, who usually growled and shouted directions until the opening night, watched the last run through without a word. As the curtain was closing on the last notes of the song, Mr. Sheets stood up and called, “Open those curtains.”
    But the curtains kept closing. “I said,” roared the director, “open those curtains!”
    A dead silence fell on the theater for the curtains had closed completely instead of opening and tension grew with each passing second. What was going on?
    Then, into the silence came Derek’s voice, sounding clearly from off stage. “I’m sorry, Mr. Sheets, but you gave explicit orders that I was not to open the curtains after that last song. I was only following your instructions.”
    There was an instant of silence and then the room erupted into laughter. The curtain opened, the orchestra struck up and the entire student body began singing ‘Happy Birthday’ as Mia and Chloe carried a large cake down to the speechless Mr. Sheets.
    When the noise died down, Mr. Sheets attempted to scowl fiercely as he thundered, “Who put you up to this? Who told you it was my birthday?”
    Looking up at him, Mia replied with a grin, “Mrs. Sheets did. And besides,” she added sweetly, “it’s always your birthday on the 14th of December.”

    Tuesday morning arrived. Not one of the Marley children had much of an appetite for breakfast, but sat staring down at their plates in silence.
    “Tut, tut, opening night jitters.” Mrs. Marley shook her head. “I don’t know how you are to manage a half day of school.”
    Bennett looked dismal. “I don’t either.”
    “But I guess it’s better then sitting around the house all morning,” Derek sighed.
    “The day is going to creep by, I just know it is,” Mia wailed.
    Putting down his paper, Mr. Marley glanced around at the long faces before him and laughed. “If you don’t eat something the play certainly will be ruined before it has gone very far because the driver will tumble off his carriage, the pretty girl in the shop will faint, the stage manager won’t be able to direct his crew and the settings will all be wrong.”
    “Disaster!” Derek exclaimed. “That’s what it would be. Come on you two, we could do the play in our sleep, we’ve gone over it so many times. What’s wrong with us today?”
    “I don’t know.” And Bennett shoved a large bite of pancakes into his mouth.

    In spite of opening night jitters and sudden nervous terror of forgetting lines or coming in at the wrong time, the play that first night was a success. The Gary children made their gingerbread house, the wealthy couple from the city became snowed in as Mr. Thompson had predicted and the final song brought cheers from the audience, but not the opening of the scarlet curtains.

    “Oh, Daddy!” Mia cried, running to fling her arms about his neck when they were at last free to head home. “What did you think of it? Did you like it? Was it the best one yet? Were you surprised by the song at the end? Didn’t the orchestra do a great job and wasn’t Uno cute with that red bow?”
    “Whoa!” Mr. Marley chuckled, unclasping his daughter’s hands and dropping her down beside the open car door. “Yes to everything, but let’s head home now.” And he gave her a little push.
    The ride home that night was one constant stream of talk. Yes, the play was delightful. The kids had done a great job. The song at the end was a surprise and the orchestra was great. Mr. and Mrs. Marley couldn’t think of a single thing that would have improved the night’s performance.
    “And we didn’t have any disaster,” Bennett whispered to Derek as they pulled into their driveway.

    Wednesday night’s performance was even better and Thursday’s better yet. Everyone was confident about what they were supposed to do and when to do it.
    “So tomorrow is the really big day, huh?” Mr. Marley asked as the family drove home that evening.
    “Yep,” Derek answered. “It’s all on us.”
    Not only had the annual Christmas play become a tradition at Coolidge High School, but the precedent of allowing the students to entirely direct the final two performances had brought packed houses each year to the theater. It would be no different this year.
    “Oh,” Mrs. Marley glanced over her shoulder at Derek, Bennet and Mia. “I was talking with Mrs. Gann from over in Midway and she said they had two tour buses coming through the area tomorrow and they are all coming to the play.”
    The children exchanged glances. “Tour buses?” Bennet asked, “What are they doing in the area?”
    Mrs. Marley shrugged. “I heard they were on a Christmas tour across the country and either Mrs. Gann told them about the tradition of the school play or they learned it from someone else. You know Mrs. Gann has connections with different tour groups.”
    Bennett sighed. “Just watch, tomorrow night will be the night one of the puppies gets tangled in the wires and pulls the lights off the Christmas tree or Dilly gets scared and runs off the stage and breaks a leg. Why couldn’t they have picked another night? Like last night.”
    “Boy, you’re in an optimistic mood,” Derek retorted, giving him a friendly shove.
    “Nothing is going to happen,” Mia put in as the car stopped before their house. “It never does.”

Will something happen tomorrow night?

If so, what do you think it might be?

Come back on Friday for the next part.

Christmas Decorations

I thought some of you might enjoy seeing a few of our Christmas decorations this year. I haven't taken pictures of everything yet, but here are a few. Enjoy!

Looking from the top of our stairs.

Part of "Garlandsburg" this year.

Above a bookcase

These little dolls were my grandmother's along with several of the ornaments.

Above the china cabinet.

In the Kitchen. :)

I hope you all have a marvelous Monday! I'm loving the cold that moved in. :D

A Christmas Disaster - Part 3

Good Morning Faithful Friday Fiction Fans,
Are you all getting ready for Christmas? For some reason it doesn't feel like Christmas yet. Perhaps it is because we really haven't had any real cold weather. I mean when it is in the 70s on the 2nd of December, you just don't feel much like Christmas. At least I don't. I want cold! I want snow, not just a little dusting, but a real snow fall. I want to go sledding, build a snowman, take a tramp through the snow with my two best friends one more time before one of them gets married. I want to curl up with a hot drink, a blanket over my lap and watch the snow falling outside while I listen to Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol." I've read two Christmas books, but they didn't put me in the Christmas mood. Probably because we had the windows open when I read one.

I haven't had much time for writing in the evenings though I did manage to get a little bit written. A little on TCR and a little on yet another Christmas story. Here are my evenings.
Last Friday my sister and I babysat 11 children ages 7 and under.
Saturday I wrote some.
Sunday we watched a Christmas movie and then I read a little while.
Monday I read.
Tuesday we watched a Christmas movie, then I wrote.
Wednesday S and I babysat Pickle Puss, Goofball, Funny Boy and Doodle Bug.
Last night Grandpa and I went to a Christmas concert. Well, as he put it, "a quirky concert." It was a string quartette and they jazzed up every song they played. Not my type.
Tonight we celebrate my Dad's birthday with J & M coming over with the kids and eating pizza and playing Kansas City Dominoes. (If you've never played Kansas City Dominoes, you're missing out.)
Not sure about tomorrow evening since we're babysitting during the day for some friends.

This week I did make a Moravian Star. It was such fun and quite easy, so I think I'll make some other ones. :) If you want to make one, just go here for the instructions.

And now the next part of your Christmas story.

A Christmas Disaster

Part 3

Last time . . .

    Placing his shoes side by side with the toes lined up on a certain mark on the floor and shoes laces tucked inside like he always did, Bennett frowned. “Well, what if Dilly decides to panic and tries to knock the town houses down?”
    “She won’t if you are with her. Why all these questions? You’re not worrying about the play are you?”
    Bennett didn’t answer until he had climbed into bed and pulled the covers up under his chin. “Nope. Just wanting to be prepared for anything.”
    As Derek snapped off the light, he couldn’t help laughing. Between Bennett with his orderly routines, always wanting to know what was going to happen or could happen so he could plan ahead, and Mia with her new, often strange, ideas popping up every time you turned around, life was never dull. But as he crawled between his own sheets and pulled the blankets up over his shoulders he wondered, “What am I like? Could I come up with any great ideas? All I can think of are the logical things. What would we do if something happened to ruin the play? But besides power outage, I can’t think of anything that could happen? Not unless the lead actors all got sick and so did their substitutes. But that’s improbable.” With that he yawned, pulled the covers almost over his head and fell asleep.

    Practice the following day went well. The last scenes were gone over and polished. Mr. Sheets nodded and smiled.
    Mr. Simcox had opened the windows some thereby causing most people to want their coats on. “You know, don’t you,” he had told the actors, “that when we do the play for an audience, and even when we practice with the orchestra tomorrow, the windows must remain shut.”
    “I guess we’ll just have to get used to roasting,” Alex said.
    “Or boiling,” Bennett added. “I’m sweating so much I’ll probably simmer for a while.”
    The others on stage laughed.

    On Friday the entire production had a run through with cast, lights and orchestra. It went better than anyone expected and after twice running through it, Mr. Sheets and Mr. Hocker conferred with Mr. Simcox, Mrs. Hocker and Mrs. Brown. There was much whispering among the actors, stage hands and musicians. They could tell something was up.
    At last Mr. Sheets shouted, “All hands on stage!”
    The students all knew that cry and hurried from their various positions to join the cast on the stage in the main street of their pretend western town.
    “All right.” Mr. Sheets snorted. “I know some of you can act, but what I don’t know is if you all can sing.”
    Glances were exchanged among the students. Sing? What was their drama teacher talking about?
    “Yes, I said sing,” he went on. “Those of you who like to hide behind curtains and do your work in the dark are going to have to come forth and be seen. Every one of you. Hear? It’s been decided that after the last curtain call, the curtains will open once more and everyone who is not in the orchestra will come out on stage for one grand finale finish.” He turned to the conductor. “Mr. Hocker, it’s all yours now.”
    Mr. Hocker didn’t bellow or shout to be heard because the entire theater was so quiet that Uno’s whine back stage in her box could be heard. “Once everyone is on stage, we will treat the audience to a song of farewell. We will sing ‘We wish you a Merry Christmas.’ You all know it, but Mrs. Hocker has re-written some of the words. They aren’t hard, and I expect you all to have them memorized for tomorrow’s practice. Sing parts, those of you who can, and—” he glanced around. “Did I cover everything?”
    “One more thing,” Mr. Sheets said. “Derek, when the last verse is almost over, you slip out and shut the curtains at the end of the song. And whatever happens, don’t open them again!”
    A general laugh sounded, for only last year, the crowd had figured out that if they began applauding and cheering after the curtain closed, it would be opened again and the cast had to take another bow. One night the crowd wanted to see how many times they could make the cast bow, for they kept on applauding and cheering until the curtain had been opened twenty times, and Mr. Sheets had hustled backstage to made sure they stayed shut.

    “So, Mia,” Bennett asked as the three siblings drove home in the car, “who has the puppies?”
    Mia laughed. “There were so many kids who wanted them that I’m not sure there’ll be enough nights. Let’s see, Chloe has Dos, Megan took Uno and Joe has Tres. I don’t know who will have them tomorrow night.”

    Saturday was a busy day for the Marley children. Not only did they have their usual Saturday chores to do, but they also had a long afternoon of practice. That day Mr. Sheets wasn’t satisfied with rehearsal. “No, no, no!” he bellowed for the twentieth time. “This is not a comedy! And why aren’t you background people pretending to talk? You aren’t statues. No, Alex! You must wait for the music before you come in with the gifts!” And so it went for five long hours. At last, after going twice through the entire play, Mr. Sheets turned to the other teachers and shrugged.
    “I wouldn’t worry too much, Mr. Sheets,” Mrs. Brown said. “In all my years of acting and teaching I’ve noticed that the last or next to last rehearsals always seem terrible, but the play turns out just fine.”
    “All right!” Mr. Simcox called, “Last curtain call!”
    Everyone gathered on stage and the next fifteen minutes were spent going over the song for the end. Mr. Hocker was easier to please and at last they were all dismissed.

    “Whew!” Derek sighed. “There’s no way I want to be an actor now! It’s hard enough running backstage.”
    Bennett grinned. “Well, we were a mess today.” He sobered. “I sure hope Monday’s practice goes better. If not, the play is likely to be the worst ever instead of the best.”
    “You know if won’t be the worst ever,” Mia said confidently. “It can’t be.”

Will you be back?

Do you think you know what happens?

A Christmas Disaster - Part 2

I hope you all have a wonderful 5th of December! Enjoy this second part of your Christmas story.
Last time . . .

    “It sure was kind of Mr. Randolph to let us keep Dilly over here in his stable,” Bennett remarked, after bedding down his horse which was being used in the play.
    “It sure was,” Derek agreed, pulling his knitted cap down over his dark hair.
    “Come on, guys, let’s get home. I’m starving!” Mia waited for her brothers to latch the stable door before adding, “And the puppies want to run.”
    The boys laughed, slung their backpacks on their backs and, each taking one of the three leashes Mia was holding, started for home. The wind was blowing powdery flakes of snow into their faces and it was growing dark.
    “I wish we had brought the car this time,” Bennett said several minutes later as the three siblings, huddled into their coats, waited for a light to turn green.
    “I know,” Derek pulled the puppy dragging on the leash back from the street. “But Mom had to run errands and the other truck wouldn’t start.”
    “Guys, I was thinking . . .”
    “Uh oh,” Bennett laughed, “Mia was thinking.”
    Mia made a face at her brother and almost tripped over a puppy as they crossed the street. Pushing back a stray lock of dark hair she continued. “I was thinking about the puppies.”
    “Don’t tell us you’re renaming them again!” Derek pleaded. Mia had already named the three puppies and then changed their names at least four times. “They won’t know what their name is if you keep on changing them.”
    “It wasn’t about that. You know we can’t keep the puppies. Dad only let us keep these this long because they were needed in the play. Uno, stop it!” Giving a quick jerk to the leash, Mia brought the unruly puppy back to her side. “Well, today, Kathy was talking about wanting a puppy and Joe mentioned really liking Tres, so I was thinking perhaps we should start letting some of the other kids at Coolidge take one of the puppies home for the night to see if they might want one after the play is over.”
    The boys exchanged glances. “That’s not a bad idea, Mia,” Bennett conceded. “Let’s talk to Mom and Dad about it tonight and then, if they think it would be good, we can call one or two of the kids and check with them. What do you think, Derek?”
    Derek nodded. “Let’s run it by Mom and Dad first. And speaking of running, let’s get moving or supper will be over before we get there.”

    Arriving at the house breathless and warmed up, backpacks were dumped on the hall floor, coats, hats, gloves and scarves were pulled off and hung up, boots kicked off to the side of the entry way and the puppies were rubbed with towels to dry them off. Hurrying to the dining room, the three hungry high-schoolers grinned at each other as the smells of hobo stew, mashed potatoes and fresh rolls sent their stomachs to rumbling and their mouths to watering.
    “We’re home, Mom!” Derek called, striding to the kitchen door.
    Mrs. Marley looked up from the stove. “Hi!” she greeted them brightly. “How was rehearsal?”
    “Great!”
    “Except I was dripping with sweat in that overcoat.”
    “But Mr. Sheets opened the windows, and Mom I had an idea!” Mia was eager to talk.
    Derek gave her a friendly push. “Hey, wait until we’re eating. We’ve got to talk it over with Dad too.”
    Mrs. Marley laughed. She was used to her daughter and her ideas. “Mia, set the table please. Boys, put the puppies in the garage and feed them. I’m about to take dinner up.”

    Supper at the Marley home was a delightful family time. Mia’s idea was discussed and approved of. Talk of the upcoming play, however, was the main theme of the conversation as bowls of stew piled with fluffy mashed potatoes were eaten ravenously along with hot rolls.
    When the last bowl was scraped clean and not another bite could be taken by anyone, Mr. Marley said, “It sound’s as though this play ought to be the best one yet.”
    “I think it will,” Bennett agreed. “If nothing disastrous happens.”

    It was growing late. Mia had been in bed for some time when Derek, having told his parents good night, quietly made his way upstairs to the room he shared with Bennett. He expected him to be nearly ready for bed if not already asleep, but to his surprise, he discovered him still seated at the desk with his science book propped up before him.
    “Hey,” Derek said softly, “aren’t you about done?”
    Bennett snorted. “Ha. Not even close. If I could understand what in the world they’re talking about here, I might be able to finish tonight.”
    Derek leaned over his shoulder. “Where?”
    Bennett pointed.
    “Oh, yeah, you don’t have Mr. Gebauer. He could explain anything. I can try if you want.”
    “Anything.” Bennett was desperate. He never had liked science very well and he knew that if he didn’t keep his grades up, he might lose his place in the play even at this late date.
    Thirty minutes later, Derek had explained the puzzling science to his brother, Bennett had completed his assignment with no trouble and both boys began preparing for bed while the cold, winter wind whistled around the snug house, shaking the bare branches of the trees and blowing the powdery snow against the screens.
    “Derek,” Bennett suddenly asked, pausing in the act of taking off his shoes. “What would we do if say, the electricity for the theater went out before one of the performances?”
    “Hope generators could be borrowed from stores.”
    “Well, what if it happened during the play?”
    “In the middle?”
    “Yeah.”
    Derek eyed his brother questioningly but replied, “I guess turn on some flashlights and declare curtains until we could get a generator.”
    Placing his shoes side by side with the toes lined up on a certain mark on the floor and shoes laces tucked inside like he always did, Bennett frowned. “Well, what if Dilly decides to panic and tries to knock the town houses down?”
    “She won’t if you are with her. Why all these questions? You’re not worrying about the play are you?”

Will you be back on Friday?

Peanut Butter Fudge

Good Morning Dear Readers,
I hope you are getting in the mood for some Christmas baking and cooking! Last year I posted a poem titled "Baking Day." In it I mentioned the fudge and even posted a picture of it. I was asked to share the recipe and here it is. Well, here is half of it. The other half, the chocolate fudge was the recipe from a little friend. We each made our special fudges and then made some mixed. Very delicious! Sorry, I don't have the other recipe, but if I can get it from her, I'll share it with you all. But for now, here is the yummy peanut butter fudge recipe from from my Grandma.

Grandma's Peanut Butter Fugde

Peg Morris

4 cups sugar

1 can evaporated milk

2 cups peanut butter

2 cups marshmallow creme

1 tsp. vanilla

Cook sugar and milk to soft ball stage (use candy thermometer.) Stir now and then. Add other ingredients. Mix until blened. Spread into greased 9x13 pan. Let harden. Cut and serve!

Makes about 4 1/2 pounds. :) (Works well to freeze for later too.)

A Christmas Disaster - Part 1

Hello Faithful Friday Fiction Fans,
I hope your week was wonderful. Mine was rather crazy. It was the kind of week you thought would be one way and instead it wasn't.
As I mentioned last week, we were getting ready for Decorating Day. On Sat. one of my Heart-Sisters came down and we started in on the decorating. It was a good start and we were pretty pleased with what we had accomplished. So on Sunday, when the others who were coming over to help, arrived, I thought, "Hey, we should be able to get a lot done." I wasn't taking into consideration the "help" of the kiddos. :) Goofball wanted to touch everything and play with everything and Funny Boy wanted to play with the train and have someone read "shrain" stories to him. (He absolutely loves trains.) Pickle Puss was a little more helpful, but she really just wanted to play with the dolls. As for Doodle Bug, we had to put him in the pack 'n play or he was in to everything! He didn't mind too much because we gave him all kinds of things to play with. :)
Well, we got some things done, but not a whole lot. I figured I'd just finish it all on Monday.

Monday. We had to go shopping to get a few more garlands because we had used them all and needed a few more. No decorating that day.
Tuesday. I managed to finish the downstairs, but didn't get anything done with the upstairs.
Wednesday. I got a start on the upstairs before Mom wanted to go walking. It was really nice out. Then I had to go help pull more things for orders for Light of Faith. I did finished the office that afternoon.
Yesterday- Finally, I was able to get the rest of the decorating done! What a relief! Then I really got to work on grading papers. I have to finish the rest of them today.

Today- We clean house, I finish grading papers and then this evening, S and I babysit 11 children ages 7 and under. :) What to come play? Should be interesting. And yes, we'll have some "twins" and maybe even a set of "triplets." The youngest ones will be about 1 1/2. The parents are all going to a "Living Christmas Tree" and didn't want to take the kids along.  Can't say that I blame them.

I have written some. Finally managed to finish the story I was writing. I'm not sure what I'll write now since no one has told me what they want to read this December. But last night in bed I was almost in the mood to write TCR again. :) I thought some of you might like it if I worked on that story. :D

Now, remember that tomorrow is the 1st of December and in December I post randomly during the month. Not just on Fridays any more. In fact, this story that is starting today, will be posted every Friday and Wednesday! So, be sure to come back for Wednesday's parts.  I hope you enjoy this story.

P.S. I now have a new page on this blog. One from which you can purchase any of my books. I even have a 10% off code you cand use. Feel free to share that page with family and friends or link to it on your blog. (If you have one. :))

Instructions:
It has to be a Christmas story
Word Count: At least 3,000 (I ended up with 7,000)

This was a painting on a tray.

(As you may notice, I did change the setting just a little. I took out the colored lights and made them just plain white. The clothes, carriage and colored lights just don't fit in the same setting.)

A Christmas Disaster

Part 1

    The streets were wet and slushy. Snow was falling in large flakes seeking to cover the streets once again with their whiteness and prevent the travel of carriages. Bright lights from a large tree in the center of town cast pools of splendor on the snow, the wet streets, the rooftops and gave a festive air to the scene. The shops along either side fairly glowed with Christmas cheer. Gleaming, polished windows filled with toys, candy, baked goods and more attracted the attention of several passers by causing them to pause, look and then enter the shops. The background of grayish-blue mountains spoke of a more western town while the white sky with no sunset appearing told of more snow.
    Pushing his greatcoat away from his neck and unbuttoning another button, Mr. Thompson clucked to his old horse while behind him in the back of his carriage, Stephanie and Alex laughed and talked.
    “Cut!” Mr. Sheets roared. “No, Bennett, you can’t unbutton your coat. Remember, it’s growing colder. Act cold! Hunch into your coat.”
    “But I’m sweltering,” Bennett, who was playing the part of the carriage driver, grumbled.
    “At least you don’t have a heavy blanket over your lap,” Stephanie retorted from behind him.
    “Mr. Sheets,” Alex’s clear voice carried across the large stage. “If this play is going to look realistic, perhaps we should turn the air conditioning on. At least for the parts outside. That way we could look the part a little easier.
    From where she had halted on the sidewalk when the order to “cut” had come, Chloe turned eagerly. “Oh, please, let’s!”
    Mr. Sheets turned to look at Mrs. Brown, Mrs. Hocker and Mr. Simcox. “Well,” he questioned with a sigh, “what do you all think?”
    “Instead of turning the air conditioning on, why don’t we just open the windows?” Mrs. Hocker suggested. “It’s plenty cold enough to keep even these hot blooded young people from reaching the boiling point.”
    A general laugh spread from the teachers to the high school students on stage and then circled through the students in the wings and backstage.
    Coolidge High School was preparing their 7th annual Christmas play. Each year they had grown more adventurous and more elaborate until two years ago when they had outgrown the small stage in the school and had been allowed the use of the town’s only theater. Since the final production was open for all the town folks and anyone from the surrounding farms, villages or neighboring towns, everyone worked hard. On opening night Story-Time Playhouse was usually filled, but on the closing night last year, after a run of five days, there had been standing room only and not much of that.
    This year would be the best one yet. All the students had pitched in painting scenery, designing and sewing costumes, memorizing lines, managing lights, sounds, scene changes and, as a grand addition, the school orchestra was providing live music. For weeks the school had been in a bustle after classes, between classes and before classes. The chatter in the hallways was about the play; teachers as well as students were excited. Now it was less than a week until opening night.
    Bennett buttoned up his greatcoat and hunched down though sweat dotted his forehead and trickled down his back.
    “And start,” Mr. Sheets called when the windows had been opened and the cold, snow laden air was blowing in.
    Mr. Thompson clucked to his horse again and started off across the stage as the fake snow began falling once more.
    “I say, Driver,” Alex called over the wind, “can’t you let us off for an hour to do some shopping? My wife is eager to see what these shops have to offer out here in the West.”
    Tipping his head back a little to glance at the sky, Mr. Thompson shook his head. “I can let you off all right, but coming back in an hour, well sir, that’s somethin’ else.”
    “Well!” Stephanie exclaimed, “Of all things! Wouldn’t you like to earn more money?”
    “Sure, sure, but this snow has only just started. Carriages won’t be any use in an hour.”
    “Won’t be any use?” echoed his passengers.
    “Nope. You’ll need a sleigh then and mine isn’t returned from the blacksmith’s yet. If you’re plannin’ on being around town for many more days, you might just get snowed in.”
    The couple in the back exchanged a quick consultation and decided to be taken to their hotel. Mr. Thompson turned his horse, and they slowly plodded off the stage.
    “Well done,” Mrs. Brown clapped. “But Steph, try to sound a little more annoyed.”
    “Mr. Sheets, are we going on with the next scene?” Derek had hurried on stage to ask. He was the stage manager, a senior and the older brother of Bennett.
    After a quick glance at his watch, Mr. Sheets shook his head. “No, we’d better not,” he decided. “The first three scenes are great, but we’ll work on the rest tomorrow.” Then, raising his voice he called out, “All right, that’s it for today! All of you get home and get your homework done!”
    A loud groan came from behind the stage followed by laughter and a wave of chatter.
    “Hey everyone, listen up!” Mr. Simcox’s deep voice bellowed and an instant silence prevailed. “On Friday the orchestra will join us for the first time. Mr. Hocker thinks they’re ready for us, but let’s make sure we’re ready for them. Mrs. Hocker won’t be here tomorrow as she’s going to be reading the parts for the orchestra while they play.” He turned to the other teachers, “Do any of you have anything to add?” At the shaking of heads, Mr. Simcox dismissed the students and turned to shut windows.

    “It sure was kind of Mr. Randolph to let us keep Dilly over here in his stable,” Bennett remarked, after bedding down his horse which was being used in the play.
    “It sure was,” Derek agreed, pulling his knitted cap down over his dark hair.

Did you like the beginning?

Will you be back on Wednesday for the next part?

What do you think happens?

My Best T - Part 5

Happy Thanksgiving, FFFs!
I hope you are all enjoying Black Friday. :P Who first came up with the idea to have great sales the day after Thanksgiving? And who named the day "Black Friday"?

What have I done this past week? I did extra cleaning. You know, those things that get done once a year. I suppose they would be "spring cleaning" jobs only we seem to do them just before we decorate for Christmas. (Oh, now I can put on the Christmas music! :D ) A friend came over and spent several hours on Tuesday. That was fun since I haven't seen her for months. My grandparents came Wednesday and that is when we had our Thanksgiving Feast. My brother, Sis-in-law and the kiddos came over and we had a wonderful day. The weather was perfect so the kids got to play outside. They rode bikes before we ate, and Pickle Puss and Goofball discovered that they can just about ride their bikes without training wheels! I'm sure Funny Boy won't be far behind. And of course Doodle Bug loves to climb on the trike and sit there until you push him. ;)
We got some family pictures taken after we ate and then the kids got to play in the leaves. We have a lot of trees in the yard and a huge swing. When other friends come over, they love to rake the leaves into a huge pile and then jump off the swing into them. Well, on Wednesday, the kiddos got to try it. They loved it! Doodle Bug rolled, jumped, laughed and had a wonderful time in those leaves even if he was half asleep. At one point he sat down, I covered him most of the way up and he put his little head down like he was going to go to sleep. :) The older three enjoyed them just as much. It took Funny Boy a little while to get up enough courage to actually jump off the swing, but then he really liked it.
Yesterday, Thanksgiving, was a quieter day. No little ones. My grandpa, mom and I opened 40+ boxes and sorted the things to be ready for Light of Faith's Black Friday sale.
Today we'll help pull things for orders. So, if you ordered from Light of Faith and ordered anything of the Melissa & Doug toys, puzzles or craft things, chances are good that I helped pull your order. :)

As far as writing, I've gotten some done. Not as much as sometimes, but I have been busy. Grandparents leave this afternoon, so I might get to write this evening. We'll see. Tomorrow one of my Heart-Sisters is coming over and will spend the night, so I won't be writing then. :) Decorating starts tomorrow! Another Heart-Sis and their parents come on Sunday along with my brother and his family. I'll try to get some pictures of the end results. :)
Until then, I hope you have a wonderful day and enjoy this last part of

My Best Thanksgiving

    We were back on the road again. I really hoped we wouldn’t have any more trouble because I wanted to get to Grandma and Grandpa’s. Besides, Jason and Vicki were growing rather grumpy from being in the van so long. Carol started us singing and we sang every song we could think of from “When the Saints Go Marching In,” to “Let’s Go Fly a Kite” to “Jesus Loves Me” to “Yellow Rose of Texas.” We were hoarse and hungry when we finally stopped. Since we had expected to be at Grandma’s for supper, we hadn’t packed anything. That meant we had to stop and pick up Taco Bell. We almost never ate out, so that was a treat.
    Lee ate quickly and then drove so Dad could eat. However, when it began to grow dark, they switched again. Mom found a classical radio station to listen to and everyone settled down. We all had our pillows with us and I propped mine up so I could lean back and watch the stars until eventually I fell asleep.
    I only half woke up when we arrived at Grandma’s around midnight and stumbled upstairs to bed. We always slept in the same rooms when we came so no one had to be told where to go. This time I didn’t have to share a bed with Jason.

    The tantalizing smell of cinnamon rolls mingling with whiffs of roasting turkey roused me in the morning. Ginger was the only other one up besides Grandma and Grandpa when I came down to the kitchen.
    Grandma greeted me with a hug. “Reagan Rowe, you’ve grown at least two inches since I saw you last,” she exclaimed, holding me off and looking me up and down.
    “But he’s as skinny as a rail like he’s always been,” Grandpa laughed, hugging me next. “Don’t they feed you anything down in Texas?” Grandpa loved to tease. “Here Grandma,” he said, “feed this beanstalk before he gets so thin he just disappears.”
    And so the day began. Grandma’s cinnamon rolls were the best I’ve had even to this day and they were the perfect start to the day.
    Around ten, my aunts, uncles and cousins started arriving, each family bringing something to add to our mid-afternoon meal. While we waited for the hour for feasting to finally arrive, the cousins dispersed here and there to play, visit and enjoy being together. My family was the only one from out of state, so it it was always special when we came. But not only was I the middle child, I was also the middle cousin, and more often than not I’d be more inclined to wander alone then join a game of Monopoly, Careers or Uno. That day was no different.
    Grabbing my camera, I pulled on my heavy jacket, for the sky was overcast and the wind nippy, and went outside. It had been dark out when we had arrived the night before so I hadn’t noticed the wagon in the side yard. Grandpa had this old wagon that he used just for fun things like hay rides or in parades or to go on picnics and things like that, and it was usually stored in the barn, but that day it was out. I wandered over.

The wheels had been painted a golden yellow recently and the back of the wagon was piled with orange pumpkins and yellow and green squash. Hay bales were set about the wagon with buckets of Grandma’s mums here and there with a few more pumpkins and squash scattered about while golden brown cornstalks, gathered together, were leaning against the wagon. A large bow of orange and black held together cornstalks entwined with autumn leaves. This hung from the back of the wagon. It was lovely. I knew there would be family pictures taken there later, but right then I didn’t want any people in the picture. I wanted to capture it just the way it was.
    The large bell hanging just outside the kitchen door began to ring loudly announcing the feast we had all been waiting for. There was a mad scramble for the side door (We weren’t allowed to use the kitchen door.), and coats, jackets and boots were hurriedly pulled off and tossed aside. We’d pick them up later.
    In the large dining room were two long tables. One was for the younger cousins and the other was for the older folks. As usual, I headed over to the younger table, but Grandpa stopped me.
    “No, Ray, you aren’t a child any more. You join us here.”
    I couldn’t find any words but looked from Grandpa to Dad. Did he really mean it? Dad was smiling.
    “Yes, Ray, you proved yourself on this trip and you can be considered one of the older ones now.”
    Still not finding my voice, I just smiled. Sitting at the grown-up’s table was an honor and I knew what things I’d say I was thankful for.
    Before Grandma and the older girl cousins brings out the food, each person has five kernels of dried corn placed on their plate. Then one of the cousins quotes the poem “Five Kernels of Corn.” It’s a poem about the first winter in America when the pilgrims only had enough food to give each person five kernels of corn for a meal. After the poem is finished, a basket is passed around and each person drops his corn in and says five things he is thankful for.
    When it was my turn I dropped my corn in and said, “I’m thankful I got to help Lee pack the trailer, for a dust storm to make me appreciate the lovely weather here, police officers who are always ready to help, for the best Thanksgiving ever and,” I paused and glanced about the room at all my relatives and family. “And I’m thankful for the memories I’ll never forget of our trip, this day and everyone here!”
    This was Thanksgiving. A full, rich harvest, plenty to eat, a family to share it with and knowing I was growing up. I thought back over the trip from Texas to Virginia and all our delays. That dust storm had caused me to appreciate the fresh, crisp air about me like I had never done before. And the flat tire, the nights crowded into hotel rooms, hours and hours stuck in the van together, that is what memories are made from. Memories are things to be thankful for. Memories to hold in your heart forever, to pull out again and relive year after year. Memories of a Thanksgiving I’ll always remember.

Did you enjoy this story?

Come back next week for the start of "A Christmas Disaster."

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Poems, really short stories, recipes, book reviews, pictures, . . . ?