Christmas at Martha's

[Judy Harder]

     

Christmas At Martha's
Dear Friend

This perfectly delightful note is being sent in paper I made myself to tell you what I have been up to.  Since it snowed last night, I got up early and made a sled with old barn wood and a glue gun.  I hand-painted it in gold leaf, got out my loom, and made a blanket in peach and mauve's.  Then to make the sled complete, I made a white horse to pull it from DNA that I just had sitting around in my craft room.

By then, it was time to start making the place mats and napkins for my 20 breakfast guests.  I'm serving the old standard Stewart twelve-course breakfast, but I'll let you in on a little secret: I didn't have time to make the table and chairs this morning, so I used the ones I had on hand.

Before I moved the table into the dining room, I decided to add just a touch of the holidays.  So, I repainted the room in pinks and stenciled gold stars on the ceiling.  Then, while the homemade bread was rising, I took antique candle molds and made the dishes (exactly the same shade of pink) to use for breakfast.  These were made from Hungarian clay, which you can get in almost any neighborhood Hungarian craft store.

Well, I must run.  I need to finish the buttonholes on the dress I'm wearing for breakfast.  I'll get out the sled and drive this note to the post office as soon as the glue dries on the envelope I'll be making.  Hope my breakfast guests don't stay too long.  I have 40,000 cranberries to string with bay leaves before my speaking engagement at noon.  It's a good thing.

Your Friend, Martha Stewart

P.S.  When I made the ribbon for this typewriter, I used 1/8-inch gold gauze.  I soaked the gauze in a mixture of white grapes and blackberries which I grew, picked and crushed last week just for fun.

[larryJ]

Too funny!

Larryj

[Judy Harder]

Chocolate Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips
Were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips.
Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care,
In hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.

While Mama in her girdle and I in chin straps
Had just settled down to sugar-borne naps.
When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash,
Tore open the icebox then threw up the sash.
The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow
Sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.

When what to my wandering eyes should appear:
A marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!
That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick
I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick.

The sweet-coated Santa, those sugared reindeer,
I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear;
On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS
A Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.

From the top of the scales to the top of the hall
Now dash away pounds; now dash away all.
Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress
My clothes were all bulging from too much excess.

My droll little mouth and my round little belly
They shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
I spoke not a word but went straight to my work
Ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.

And laying a finger beside my heartburn
Gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned.
I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry
If temptation's removed I'll get thin by and by.

And I mumbled again as I turned for the night
"In the morning I'll starve...
'til I take that first bite!"

[Judy Harder]

Christmas Riches
Rick, my husband, and I had a hectic holiday schedule encompassing careers, teenagers, shopping, and all the required doings of the season.

Running out of time, I got the stationer to print our signature on our Christmas cards, instead of signing each one.

Soon we started getting cards from friends signed "The Modest Morrisons,"

"The Clever Clarks," and "The Successful Smiths."

Then it hit me.

I had mailed out a hundred cards neatly imprinted with "Happy Holidays from the Rich Armstrongs."

[Judy Harder]

The Real Night Before Christmas
The REAL Night Before Christmas
(By Parents)

'Twas the night before Christmas
when all through the house
I searched for the tools
to hand to my spouse

Instructions were studied
and we were inspired,
in hopes we could manage
"Some Assembly Required."

The children were quiet (not asleep) in their beds,
while Dad and I faced the evening with dread:
a kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's townhouse to boot!
And now, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!

We opened the boxes,
my heart skipped a beat -
let no parts be missing
or parts incomplete!

Too late for last-minute returns or replacement;
if we can't get it right, it goes straight to the basement!
When what to my worrying eyes should appear
but 50 sheets of directions, concise, but not clear,

With each part numbered and every slot named,
so if we failed, only we could be blamed.
More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out,
all over the carpet they were scattered about.

"Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there!
Slide on the seats, and staple the stair!
Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand."
"Honey," said hubby, "you just glued my hand."

And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact
that all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact
to keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night
with "assembly required" till morning's first light.

We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work,
till our eyes, they went blurry; our fingers all hurt.
The coffee went cold and the night, it wore thin
before we attached the last rod and last pin.

Then laying the tools away in the chest,
we fell into bed for a well-deserved rest.
But I said to my husband just before I passed out,
"This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.

Tomorrow we'll cheer, let the holiday ring,
and not run to the store for one single thing!
We did it! We did it! The toys are all set
for the perfect, most magical, Christmas, I bet!"

Then off to dreamland and sweet repose
I gratefully went, though I suppose
there's something to say for those self-deluded-
I'd forgotten that BATTERIES are never included!