I have received this week two wonderful Christmas presents from God. The first was one I passed by as I did not trust the look of it, in a Christmas bread mould, but fortunately my Mother came along and picked it up.I made use of the mould today in making English Plum Pudding. Like most people in this world, I had never tasted something that is so integral to the American heritage which comes out of the British Isles.
Rather odd considering my maternal Grandmother Sarah was of not only English vintage, but Canadian also.
I never knew the woman as having only met her twice in my life before she died, and she died like all ornery Jehovah's Witnesses in ripping IV's out of her veins as they do not allow such things.
Being a poop overloaded her old vintage heart and she went to judgment, probably still denying Jesus is thee Son of God.
Odd about the Witnesses in that cult stole a ranch from my family and psychologically kidnapped the poor kid who killed my sister in a traffic accident as the Witness prey on such types, but they have never once inquired about my poor relatives, no more than Obama about his.
Perhaps like Scrooge, they think they pay for it all in taxes already so that is their milk of human kindness to go blindly on in life.
I did though make a Christmas Pud today and was quite delighted even with minor difficulties. I obtained a Presto pressure cooker which I have a strong affection for. It does not work the best as it steamed all the water out, so I had to add liquid which is not the idea in cooking with these things, as it is dangerous and it probably ruins a risen cake.
My pudding though was just 1 cup flour, the regular things and red currants. I had never tried them before, but found I really do like them. I detest raisins as being too spicy and disagreeable with my body due to the chemicals they put on them, but this English Pudding was really pleasing to me as my first taste of Christmas.
The mace, cinnamon, allspice and nutmeg, gave a flavour like Gram's Sour Cream Raisin Pudding which I did tolerate eating raising in as it was sooooooooo yummy.
I topped it all off with real whipped cream and I was amazed to taste something from a Dickens book.
That was my second present from God, as He gave me a 1939 copy of Charles Dickens Christmas stories. The Christmas Carol is what I have begun reading now, and there are two others that I do not recall the titles of in one had a very pretty girl a the beginning and the other was something about a cricket on the hearth.
I love Dickens as much as Kipling in being such nice storytellers and it is a nice way to start a bitter cold December with a pud and Dickens for a long winters nap.
I was thinking about Christmas today a great deal in how as a child the five of us children would find immensely stupid and entertaining things to do. We had an old Willys Jeep which somehow ended up with us from the Army that we used to hook up a car hood to and load it up with us and neighborhood children and go bounding down the road and fields like little heathens.
A gentleman from my dead sister's past when visiting her a few years ago even mentioned that old jeep and all the fun he had being dragged along behind it.
I guess those were the years that parents didn't care if their vehicles were part of children amusements in off road activity.
I remember that old car hood in my sisters would take corners fast and it would whip around so much the centrifugal force would throw us clear. I got tired of that at age 6 and tied myself on, when an older neighbor kid saw it and decided my safety belt would get me killed when the hood flipped over and we had to stop as my wonderful knot was untied.
We must not have had the longest of ropes as when we were pulled I can always remember the exhaust pipe right there and is probably why my one sister ran the other sister over one day as she backed up. No harm really as we apparently bounced well and things like pain just were shrugged off like sticking a pitchfork into your siblings foot or an old horse standing on your foot as your screamed.
We used to go to the hills which had a paved road on them to the lake there. We would ride those ice covered roads, dodging cars and having the time of our lives.
I remember I had scrounged up a broken old sled that had nails sticking out of it and in order to steer it you had to lay down and push your chest on it hard. It apparently looked a pretty good winter carpet ride as the sister who was run over decided to give it a go one time, and I can still hear her screaming as she whizzed down the hill unable to steer the thing as she was sitting up on it.
She crashed into a snow mountain, broke a blood vessel that time she said, but she always broke blood vessels. It was a thing with her in any event in life from dropping a book, to getting a good grade to crashing a sled, you just broke a blood vessel.
My brother got it into his head one Christmas holiday that we were going to take my saucer out, tie it to a horse and ride like the wind for fun as we pulled each other.
Things went pretty well for his part as he was seven years older than me, but me I didn't have the nuances worked out in you had to take a wide swing when you were pulling something behind you.
I can still see him sitting there covered with snow, scowling at me like he wanted to beat me to death, the saucer caught in a grain swather wheel as I neglected the allowance, the horse standing sprawled legged, saddle on her side, and me looking stunned as I was knocked into a pile of snow off the horse.
Later we took to the road and the snow plow had made this little rise, probably there was some boulder in the road that caused it, but it looked like a great place to jump a saucer at around 40 miles an hour behind a horse.
The first time I jumped it, I flew off the saucer and jammed my center knuckle into the frozen road. Undaunted I did it a second time as I was undaunted and jammed my knuckle again.
The next day I knew better so jumped it again and jammed my other knuckle on my left hand.
Tried it fourth time and jammed my right knuckle again so both my hands were swelled up and hurt all vacation, but it never seemed to interfere with riding that saucer as I remember.
I did get my brother to try the jump once, but he learned his lesson once in laying in a pile on that hard road.
I still think I could make that jump if only I could master it one more time.
We always had fun as children together, with the university friends who came tagging along into the wilds to see how the lunatics lived. They all had fun and came back time and again.
Some of the best presents I have now are the memories of freezing to shaking chills walking home with my giant of an Uncle Marvin. My Aunt's goodies as we waited to go home in torture to open presents at our house. The myriads of rabbits which would gather at that time of year in the cottonwood patch just south of our place and how you always froze in those cars for the first two miles, because dad was not about to waste gas in warming up a car.
I would like to thank you for reading my sense and nonsense at times over the year, and, for reading this, because I know you are out there as you know I am here puttering around looking for another Christmas to pass that is like the old stories and old Christmas vinyl albums when their softness softened the world and made Christmas into the memory of Christ in all He brought to the world.
God bless us everyone, Tiny Tim, and to you too, Mr. Scrooge.
agtG
