  Comedy
This week: When Traditional Meets Unconventional Edited by: Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥmas  
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Hello, folks, welcome to the holiday season! We no longer have to go on the “hunt” for our Christmas tree because we have settled with the Martha Stewart tree, and company from WDC to help decorate. Yes folks, our Thanksgiving was spent with I Love WDC! Cissy❤. |
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Web-lock and I drove to Alabama to pick-up our special guest for Thanksgiving -- and, no, I don’t mean the turkey.  We already had that bird marinating in spices and some sherry -- just to make the whole idea of being the food of honor seem less fowl. Anyway, we got on the road late in the afternoon and planned to spend the night within a couple hours of her home. We thought a nice hotel get-away would be fun before the hustle and bustle of food preparation and hours on our feet. While we were traveling the sky turned dark and that wasn’t just because night was approaching -- it was the finger of doom type of cloud cover. There was a definite hook forming on the end of one cloud that we noticed as lightning streaked the skies and the torrential rains began to fall. We could barely see the road ahead of us. It was both creepy and kooky at the same time.
Now, a witch doesn’t worry too much about inclement weather because she could take her broom high above the storm clouds. However, when there are passengers aboard, it just doesn’t seem to climb to those heights as easily, thus keeping us hovering along the highway with the rest of the holiday-traveling population.
Nevertheless, we moved along in the storm and made our way to the toll road. The collector in the booth said that the tornado warning has just been lifted. What!?? That was tornadic weather we were going through in the famous broom dubbed “Rubyflower?” Indeed, that little finger-looking cloud was the cause of the brutal weather events. But neither rain, nor wind nor freaky tornado was going to keep us from our mission to bring our dear Native American friend, to a Thanksgiving with us Yankees, transplanted to Florida for the winter. (It was also Cissy’s first trip on WW’s broom.)
An hour into the trip, Cissy remembered that she left a bag on the table back home. I said we probably had whatever she needed to make her special Native American dish in my kitchen. She says, in between laughter -- “Do you have any corn meal?” When I told her I had, she reminded me that it was the Native Americans who brought corn meal to the Pilgrims on the first Thanksgiving and that this time, it would be us “Yankees” bringing the Native American to the corn meal. Okay, yeah that makes sense, we are taking the first Thanksgiving full circle.
The ride back was filled with jokes, singing and laughter. Web-Lock drove and we kept him supplied with Pepsi, cookies a Subway sub, chips and coffee! Cissy and I were singing and dancing (with our seat-belts on of course.) We played one cd after another for miles and hours.
We arrived at nearly 2:00 a.m. at the Southern Command Center, and we stayed up until 5:00 a.m. chatting, only stopping long enough to place the big bird in the oven. No, I’m not talking about WL -- I mean the sherry-soaked Tom. The late morning awakening had us scurrying to get all the side dishes done and prepare for the feast. All went well. 
The day after Thanksgiving, we pulled Martha Stewart out of the closet. No, not the real person, the pre-lit Christmas tree that bears her name. It’s the fourth year that I don’t have to go on “the hunt” for the fullest fir in the tree farm, cut it down and drag it over the sleety, slippery sometimes snowy turf with my son, and then spend hours re-cutting it to perfection and trimming it with an abundance of heavy ornaments. Martha, bless her heart had the foresight to wrap LED, long lasting bright and colorful lights around my faux fir tree so I would never worry about how tight my light strings needed to be wound over each branch. It also gave Web-Son a tremendous pardon from his light stringing expertise. That guy would spend an entire day wrapping sets of lights around the branches. I think the last light count was five-thousand -- but who’s counting? Each year between the inside and out, the lights seemed to grow. Florida also made that easier, because by the time we decided to spend our winters here, the solar Christmas lights were invented. Yup, Web-Lock only needs to unstring them and place the solar collector in the right spot for maximum illumination qualities during the night. His part is done.
For my part? Well the ornaments are lighter, simpler and cooler-looking. No longer sporting the New England traditional, I have found that chili peppers and paper cranes and glittery “snowflakes” make delightful ornaments! And I've escaped the whole injury by tree farm booby-traps of stumps, wild thorny weeds and branch snap-back retaliation whilst dragging a fourteen foot tree with my son back to the car, to transport to the house and trim from the top until it fits within a room with only a seven-foot ceiling. (Heavy Victorian ornaments need fullness, folks.)
When we had the current trouble-free tree in place, Cissy, Web-Lock and I headed out to do some shopping. It was the notorious Black Friday, and no we weren’t going out to the malls or electronics stores to grab the big ticket sale items for Christmas. Nope! we just wanted to buy some more coffee and and a couple other items to prepare a part-Southern, part Native American, post-Thanksgiving, pre-tree decorating celebratory dinner. I know, who cooks the day after Thanksgiving? We do! However, we were curiously drawn to the clubhouse on our way by.
There were many cars in the lot and we wanted to know what lurked behind the doors of the big banquet room. Without standing on ceremony, WL went in through one of the interior doors, ignoring the warning sign that said “Vendors Only,” and opened up a paradise of treats not often stumbled upon on Black Friday. It was the day before the annual flea market sale and one of the vendors was a friend and invited us all to come in and take a look at what he planned to sell the next day. Before too long, we started pre-bargaining on items and made a killing! Wow, it sure beat what all the other folks sucked-into Black Friday madness were going through -- and the prices couldn’t be beat.
Needless to say, the drive back to Alabama via the Web-Broom, (The “Rubyflower") left much less leg room. The private pre-flea market sale of treasures, accompanied Cissy back to her home. She was grinning ear to ear over her easily-gotten booty of gifts and souvenirs from her trip.
Yes, that was definitely the best start to a holiday season that I could ever remember. The First Thanksgiving revisited in reverse.
  May you have a wonderful Christmas folks, and very happy holidays to all!  
Until next time -- laugh hard, laugh often!
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Feedback from, "Comedy Newsletter (November 5, 2014)"
Quick-Quill 
I love reading about your dramas. You make them real. I can picture all the action and know I have had similar situations. I think the bird or bat thing comes from a Bible verse about not letting birds nest in your hair. It has evolved over the years to any bird or flying creature will head for your hair. It's really about finding a place to perch.
I think you might be right with that observation.  My mother was making sure nothing would perch on her head, that's for sure! You should have seen her reaction when a bat was flying around the church during a Sunday service.
Thanks for the feedback! 
Joy 
Funny again, WW, and a great comedy NL!
Plus, I now learned how to catch a bird: with a towel. I wonder if that would work with snakes and other lizards...
Thanks, Joy! I think a towel is good for capturing many creatures, although a snake would probably slither out of it too fast. 
drjim
Just THREE doors to hold back a big, bad scary bird?!? Great to hear your stories from the great beyond that entertains us all though thick and thin!!
I'm still trying to figure out what's behind door number three.
blunderbuss
Hi Web Witch! The image of your mother with the pot on her head to protect her from the bird made me laugh out loud! Fabulous newsletter. It reminded me of a time many years ago when I rescued a bird trapped in my apartment, using a tea towel to gently cover it, and then encouraged it to flutter out of the open window. The bird headed for the communal gardens in the centre of our square and I sighed with relief. Only to be told by my husband, standing by and watching the whole thing - it'll probably die of heart failure as soon as it reaches a tree.' I can't repeat my reply!
Oh, no -- He didn't!!? How awful to say that right after your loving rescue attempt. Gee, now I wonder if my bird had a stroke and fell off the tree branch when it escaped the house of frightened freaks. 
Thanks for the feedback. I'm happy you got a laugh out of the newsletter.
LJPC - the tortoise 
Hi WW! What an exciting time in TX! I know they always say about wild animals, "It's more scared of you than you are of it." But in this case, with a woman with a pot on her head and another one attacking it with a giant towel, I'm surprised that poor starling didn't drop dead from fright!
~ Laura
No, Laura -- according to blunderbuss's husband, the bird waits until it lands safely on a tree and then it drops dead from a heart attack. (I guess it prefers to die at home.) 
Thanks for your feedback folks. We editors really appreciate it!
See you next time. I will be bringing-in the New Year with you.
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Comedy: December 03, 2014 Issue [#6688]
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