A Christmas Tale: Can I have some Figgy Puddin’, please (i.e. The Classic Holiday Story)

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“Sometimes, the classics are the best of tales, even in reposts. Happy holidays to One and All!” Gun Roswell

The year was 1845. I was about ten years of age and working as a stable girl. Our family lived and worked in Lord Hamilton’s manor house. It was Christmas time and as a gift for the servants, the Lord arranged a feast for the staff and their families.

Mommy had the children dressed in their Sunday best. My two brothers were complaining about the stiffness of the shirts. Starch was itchy and could cause rash, especially if one scratched the itch.
I had my favourite dress on and my younger sister was a bit jealous of the red and green colouring. She was wearing a plain blue coloured hand me down.

After all the fuzz and hassle with the wardrobe, the whole family was finally set to go to the main house and start with the Christmas dinner. Us servants would be dining in the large kitchen. Several long tables were brought in with extra seats as well. This wasn’t a large household. With around fifteen servants and their families, well not all had children and spouses, all in all around sixty people in total crammed around the tables. The two cooks had had their hands full with the preparations and naturally every one that could had chipped in.

But now it was time for celebration. Everyone was finally sitting down and getting quiet. After grace the noise level rose again. Food containers were passed around and everyone was filling their respective plates. After all, it wasn’t often we got to eat in this manner and variety.

After a while, everyone had cleared their plates and it was time for dessert. My favourite was the Figgy Pudding. If possible I opted for seconds. As I got my plate of the delicious substance before me, I licked my lips and dug into it with gusto. It did not take too long for the food to disappear from my plate.

My mom looked at me with a smirk. I looked back at her and passing my bowl I asked: “Is there any Figgy Puddin’ left?”

I was smiling widely, feeling exhilarated, when the bowl was passed back to me with an other helping.

When the final bits were eaten, it was time for the traditional sing along. The farmhand brought out his accordion and after the first few tunes, we all joined in. The evening was spent singing, chatting and finally picking up the tables. We all went back to our dwellings, thanking the Lord for the special meal.

Merry Pudding and God bless us everyone!

Mrs Claus to the rescue!

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“Santa has it real easy. I plan and buy all the toys. He gets all the credit just for them deploying!” Mrs Claus

Mrs Claus to the rescue!

Mrs Claus
Without any kind of applause
Doing her bid
Without earning a single quid
Because all of this so called Yuletide
Without the bride
Of this, so called Santa
Would be just banter
No kind of jolly
Or celebration type folly
For neither me
Nor you

Without the one we never calling choose
Mrs Claus

The Eve of all Eves (Xmas style)

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“The holiday season for some, those celebration begins, on this very Eve…” Gun Roswell

The Eve of all Eves (Xmas style)

‘Twas the night before Christmas
Nothing stirred,
No sound was heard
No human, nor animal, in sight
Even the mice had taken flight
The only ones about their business
Were the little green men from Mars
They had to be really careful
Their nature a little bit fearful
For the holidays not to turn into a farce
It was their turn to spread wholly
Presents and a great amounts of jolly

In a mighty hurry
No time for blurry
Their sleigh filled
Up to the hilt
As it took off
With a big bang
And a huge puff
As they all sang
The yuletide carols
As they rolled off

Children and grown-ups
Getting lots of stuff
As the little green men
Working collectively
Their derrières off in zen
As the Xmas spirit
Now duly delivered
All around the world
At least,
That is what we heard

The Winter and the Sunset

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“The sunsets are very early in the afternoon, if you are lucky enough to catch one at all” Gun Roswell

The Winter and the Sunset

It seemed only a few hours ago, that the sun had started rising, in the low horizon, and then it was already almost gone. But luckily I was able the catch the last rays glowing in reds as the setting of the sun was a few hours only after the lunch break in the afternoon, thinking that’s was way too soon as I had hardly caught a glimpse of it all day, making the mood much like dismay, even if the lighter colours on the outside because of the snow were all still shining bright. But the sun is something to be adored no matter how many times it feels like a chore and talking about it sometimes like a bore, the same old story of the setting sun, the images captured pretty much all done. But I say it is not, and keep on the lookout for the bright globe of fire, whenever it emerges from its slumber, lighting up our dull grey days, and keep on snapping those pictures high and low, whenever the rise or set is on the flow, and a few words here and there in honour of the star so mighty, as without it there really is no surviving.

Winter art

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“There is a lot of spontaneous art happening during the winter time, with the freezing and melting and ice and snow“ Gun Roswell

Winter art

The warmer temperatures came and went and the freezing process started again, raising havoc on the side walks of all things, people falling down and breaking their legs, arms and hips. But if there is one great thing about this back and forth of the weather in the winter time, is at least the quick freezing of the nature kind. As if by surprise, the sprouts were coming alive one moment due to the sun shine, and then, over night, with the plummeting temperatures, they were flash frozen in time to be persevered for at least, until the next time the gods controlling the climate would change their minds and bring on warmer breezes and doing the unfreezing of the gorgeous pieces of art work as provided by nature’s creatures. But until the warm front hits the lands once again, let’s just go out there and admire the splendours and free art, much of it quite smart, perhaps snap a few photos in the process and write some fancy poetry or whatever words on the paper, for the rest of the world to admire at least in bits and bytes.

Winter’s blue moment sunset

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“The blue moment of the day, is here to slay, the sun, as there is nothing it can do against the darkening night.” Gun Roswell

Winter’s blue moment sunset

The colour, is simply so totally blue, the hue so strong, the lens of the camera could not even fathom how to adjust the tone

But it does not matter as the calming waves, hitting those, whom dare in the moment for a tad longer to stay.

The world under a calming cool blanket, not of white, or off white, but blue, the hue simply so good, matching those of the skies.

And before it is time to retire, lay the head on a pillow and smile, the moment of blue still lingering the minds of those, whom did it applaud.

Winter’s Branches

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“They are frozen, solid, preserved and intact, until spring.” Gun Roswell

Winter’s Branches

Just yesterday, the leaves were hanging there, living, breathing, drinking in the water from the rain having fallen from the open skies, waving gently in the winds, as if nothing would disturb them.

Then, overnight, the temperatures plummeted, and without so much as a warning, the leaves of the threes, froze, mid life, without a strife, simply hanging there in suspended animation, in whatever position they had been, when the extreme wheaten stormed in.

Pretty, they are, even from a far, the hanging jewels of sorts of the tree, covered by snow and ice, looking quite nice, but inside there, is life waiting to pounce forward at the first sign of spring.

Wintery branches

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“The nature has painted the branches of the trees with a white crystal like substance, something these mere mortals call as “snow”” Gun Roswell

Wintery branches

The early morning snow showers, had painted patterns all over the place, frozen for a short moment in the cold weather, the icicles of the flowery flakes glistening in the morning sun, looking like much fun, at least, when staring from the window, from the warmth of the inside. But those who dare outside, in the world now rather cold and crispy, perhaps taken some sort of recording device with them, whether a mechanical one, or a simple pen and paper setup, they might just be able to capture the most gorgeous scene, right out of a fantasy book, as the look, is pretty much out there, from the mind of the creator, Mother Nature, rewarding us with this sight. And after the day is done, those patterns would have turned, to something else as more snow and ice would have burned on top of the original ones. So, perhaps todays display, will be even the more tomorrow, who knows? The point being, keep an interest in the surroundings as you can never know what interesting things you might just be finding out there.

World Wide We Ride

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“There is just something about travel, around the globe and guess in the future, space?” Gun Roswell

World Wide We Ride

Against the mundane grind
Do I daily fight
My Disappointment, trying hard to hide
When dull takes over there for the while
Cooking up, some kind of evil guile
To get on my face, a more permanent smile
But, before that time
I can only enjoy my precious archives
For only in my mind
Do I travel, world wide

A snowy seat for the Sunday day

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“The best seat in the house, but it’s on the outside!” Gun Roswell

A snowy seat for the Sunday day

It may be cold outside
With lots of frosted snow
But as the sun comes from its hide
You need to take it slow
Take a seat for a while
Even if it’s not your style
And simply enjoy with a smile…

But, thank goodness: It’s almost summer now!???
(Just kidding! it’s not even Xmas yet!)