A HOLIDAY LONGMIRE STORY – THE SPIRIT OF STEAMBOAT, CRAIG JOHNSON

Spirit of Steamboat: A Walt Longmire Story

SnapIt-165By Craig Johnson

PENGUIN GROUP Viking
Viking Adult – 161 Pages

A holiday tale from the New York Times bestselling author of the Walt Longmire mystery series, the inspiration for A&E’s hit show Longmire

“It’s a question of what you have to do, what you have to live with if you don’t.”

As Sheriff Walt Longmire is reading A Christmas Carol in his office on Christmas Eve, he’s interrupted by a mysterious young woman who claims to know him. And Lucian Connally, Walt’s predecessor who now lives in a retirement home.

She is indeed a ghost of Christmas past. It takes Walt a while, but when he sees the scars, one that runs across her forehead, the plastic reconstruction work around her mouth and nose — he remembers. When the young lady is introduced to Lucian, he claims to not recognize her … but it’s not true. He knows who she is. They both do and soon, Walt is deep in memories of the hellacious blizzard of December 24, 1988.

It’s the story of a rescue, a decrepit B-25 bomber named “Steamboat.” How, after three people die in a terrible crash, a girl survives, in desperate need of immediate medical care far in excess of what this small, snowbound community can provide. How Lucian flies that old, leaky plane through the worst blizzard in memory — while Walt, the doctor and a co-pilot white-knuckle onward against all odds.

It’s a novella with a lot of back story for the ongoing Longmire series. It’s a touching Christmas story, full of valor and determination in the face of impossible odds and an epic storm. The girl will die if they can’t beat that blizzard — and they are not about to let her die.

If you have read, or are in the process of reading the Longmire series — or if you are following the story via the A&E television series, this is a worthwhile addition to your reading. It’s available from Amazon and on Audible.com.

SPIRIT OF STEAMBOAT is a wonderful, inspiring holiday read — an excellent read any time!

HAPPY SOLSTICE TO ALL!

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‘Twas the Night of the Solstice

by Kim Harrison

‘Twas the week before Christmas, and up in the Hollows,
Solstice bonfires were burning, to toast the marshmallows.

The pixies were snug in their stump, even Jenks,
Who claimed he was tired, and needed some winks.

 So I in my parka, and Ivy in her boots,
Were toasting the season, with thirty-year hooch.

When out in the street, there came such a crash,
I thought that it had to be ‘coons in our trash.

Away to the gate, I trudged through the snow,
While Ivy just said, “If it’s Kist, say hello.”

I lifted the latch, and peered to the street,
My face went quite cold.  We were in it thigh deep.

‘Twas a demon, who stood in the headlamps quite bright,
With his coat of green velvet, and his uncommon height.

His eyes, how they glittered, his teeth how they gnashed,
His voice, how he bellowed, his tongue, how it lashed

The street wasn’t holy, so on Big Al came,
As he bellowed, and shouted, and called me by name.

“Morgan, you witch.  You’re a pain in my side.
“Get out of your church.  There’s no place to hide!”

Like hell’s fury unleashed, he strode to my door,
Where he hammered and cursed, like a cheap jilted whore.

But Ivy and I, we circled round back,
To stand in the street and prepare for attack.

“You loser,” I shouted.  “I’m waiting for you.”
And the demon, he spun, taking on a red hue.

Ivy stood ready, and I whispered, “Okay . . .
“If he wants to get rough, I’m ready to play.”

With nary a word, us two girls got to work,
Putting foot into gut, of the soul-sucking jerk.

I circled him quick, with a few words of Latin,
While Ivy distracted him with lots of good wackin’

“Get back!” I yelled out when my trap was complete,
And Ivy somersaulted right over the creep.

My circle sprang up, entrapping him surely,
Al fussed and he fumed, like a demonic fury.

The neighbors all cheered, and came out of their houses,
Where they’d watched the whole thing, like little house mouses.

So Ivy and I, we both bowed real low,
Then banished Big Al, in an overdone show.

But I heard Al exclaim, ‘ere he poofed from our sight
“You won this time witch, but I’ll get you one night!”

- – - – -

Kim Harrison, December 14th, 2005

CHRISTMAS FROM THE OUTSIDE

Being a non-observant Jew is effectively no religion. It isn’t like being an atheist because it doesn’t imply a belief in no god. My mother was an atheist. I understand what it means. To me, atheism requires as much certainty as any other faith. You have to know something you can’t really know. It’s faith, even if it’s faith in nothingness.

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Given my upbringing and personal preferences, I’m mildly uncomfortable celebrating all religious holidays, including Jewish ones. I feel as if I’m wearing someone else’s clothing. Even when they fit well and look good, I know they aren’t mine. Every year when Christmas rolls through town flattening everything and everyone in its path, I bow to its power and supremacy. I enjoy the lights, music,  gifts and season while remaining aware it isn’t my holiday. When everyone is sharing their warm fuzzy memories of Christmas as a child, I have no equivalent memories to share. Not of Christmas or any holiday because my mother, atheist that she was, celebrated nothing. As a kid, I yearned to be part of Christmas. All my friends had trees and got a zillion presents. I would wander around to my various friends’ houses, stay a little while, aware I wasn’t really welcome. Then I would go home. I felt so left out.

When I married my first husband, his family was almost as religious as mine. They were pretty sure they had been — at some point in the past — something, but they weren’t sure what. They celebrated Christmas with enormous energy and enthusiasm, without any bothersome religious overtones. It was an alcoholic’s dream holiday featuring eggnog that might actually kill you. And very tree-ish. My father-in-law hauled in the biggest trees I’ve ever seen in a private home. Paul Bunyan would have been impressed.

That first Christmas (1965), they pulled out all the stops. They had a Jew to entertain. How exciting. A new audience. Jeff passed away twenty years ago, but his mother — she will be 104 in February — still sends a Christmas present. I have one in the living room right now waiting to be unwrapped.

The nine years I lived in Israel gave me perspective. There was no evidence of Christmas. Chanukah was a holiday, but not like Christmas. Passover and Sukkot were big festivals. It was comfortable to be a Jew in Israel. That sounds redundant, but the freedom to live by a Jewish calendar was no small thing. Even if you were entirely non-religious, you didn’t feel the pressure to be involved in what is — theoretically — a Christian holiday, but is — as practiced — Pagan. I like the Pagan part.

Basically, I have no religious affiliation. Jewish by ethnicity and history. And I know a lot about Judaism, admire it, but I don’t practice it and never have. I thought seriously about practicing it but it didn’t fit better than anything else. I’m skeptical of everything, certain of nothing. I have no answers.

So to all of you, Merry Christmas. Have a cool Yule and a grand Solstice. Whatever you celebrate, please — enjoy it! I’ll sing along because I know all the words.

DAILY PROMPT: HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA!

esplanade-boston-fireworks-2013Favorite holiday?

Not Christmas though I’ve had some fine Christmases and enjoyed them as only someone who wasn’t brought up with Christmas can. I had to marry Christmas so I could make it merry. I love it dearly. From the brightly wrapped gifts to the decorated tree to the carols piped through every shop and mall in America — I love it — though I’m always aware I’m borrowing it. Maybe that makes me appreciate it more — because I remember when it wasn’t part of my world.

I also remember some totally fabulous Passover seders with roasted lamb and all the ritual trimmings. Ceremonies, wine and song. Those were great too.

But I have to cast my vote for Independence Day. The 4th of July, America’s big, booming birthday bash. What’s not to like? Burning meat on the barbecue? Hot dogs, hamburgers. Potato salad I make myself with a side of slaw. Ketchup and mustard to douse the flavor of scorching. Everyone wearing shirts with flags and finally, watching the best fireworks. What is more satisfying than explosions in the sky?

I’ve seen fantastic fireworks at the Boston Navy Yard, along the Charles. In the sky over Nantucket Sound and old Uxbridge High School’s football field. I love fireworks.  Bang, boom and the yummy smell of cordite in the air.

I remember a long time ago … the mid 1970s … a friend and I walked all the way from the house in Hempstead to Eisenhower Park. A few miles. Traffic was terrible on the fourth and there wasn’t any place to park when you got there, so … we walked. Then we lay flat on our backs on the grass and watched the sky explode.

When Garry and I were first together and lived in Charles River Park, we stood on the Arthur Fiedler Footbridge and watched the sky light up, listened to the Pops play the 1812 overture, with cannons. I later saw the celebration from the Hatch Shell, though it was less fun because Garry was working and had no one with whom to go “ooh” and “aah.”

boston fireworks 2011

I don’t know about the rest of you. There are lots of excellent holidays and always plenty of good reasons to love them. Holidays are great and we should take every opportunity to celebrate. Life is short and sometimes grim, so party hearty when you can. On principle. As for me, let’s send up some skyrockets and start a bonfire. My kind of holiday.

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A Hit for Christmas – Richard Paschall

See on Scoop.itForty Two: Life and Other Important Things

Reblog From SUNDAY NIGHT BLOG – Richard Paschall

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December 15, 2013

by Rich Paschall

 - – -

I need a hit for Christmas

To turn the season green.

A snappy little holiday tune

Is really what I mean.

If I could just find somewhere

In my memory tonight

A verse, a phrase, some words of joy

To the world I would write.

 - – -

“What is my theme?” I wonder

As I wander here and there.

Christmas songs make lots of cash

And why should I not share

In monies green and silver

But oh what shall I say?

After all I’m thinking now,

“What’s not been said of Christmas Day?”

 - – -

I’ll write a Christmas Jingle.

Bells of joy will sound –

A song about Kris Kringle

Or snow upon the ground.

I’ll make a little silver.

Bells of joys will play –

A check, a smile, a royalty

With every Christmas Day.

 - – -

As each and every memory

Was sailing past tonight,

I had to grab the good ones

And to add the music right.

I’m dreaming of best sellers

That every year will rock

Around the Christmas tree

And down every single block.

 - – -

We then need the musicians

For piano and for bass.

We’ll add a little drummer.

Boy, we’ll really rock the place.

The perfect words and music?

I ask what do you hear.

What I hear are record deals

If we can sound sincere.

 - – -

I’ll write a Christmas Jingle.

Bells play all the way.

A tune that you will download –

On CD’s that you will play.

I’ll have a greener season

And know just what to say –

“A check, a smile, a royalty

With every Christmas Day.”

 - – -

Copyright Richard Paschall

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BRATZ ANGEL WITH BRIGHT TREE

Our Angel wore out. You wouldn’t think they could wear out. After all, they don’t do anything except sit there on top of the tree and look angelic, right? But after more than 20 years, our angel fell quietly to pieces. Peacefully, but nonetheless, a final peace in pieces.

Bratz Angel

My granddaughter, clever angel that she is, felt we needed a new angel and sacrificed one of her many (oh so many) Bratz dolls. I think we have the only black lipped Goth tree angel, but it’s a very nice angel indeed. The tree looks fine, though it too is coming near the end of its life and next year we will probably have to replace it. For now, we will keep it.

Since Garry were married, I’ve bought a special decoration for Christmas each year. 2013′s decoration are the stuffed owls I bought at the Heritage Museum Lighting Night. If you look, you will see other Christmases and their special decoration. There have been many. Hopefully there will be many more.

 

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WEEKLY PHOTO CHALLENGE: COMMUNITY OF SONG

The whole congregation comes together once a year at Christmas. Everyone participates, from toddlers to seniors. Singing or preparing food, or supporting their friends and family by being their to show their love. This a community united in their love of Christmas, their church and the music.

THE ONE AND ONLY ORIGINAL CHRISTMAS STORY

I need my annual fix — a viewing of It’s a Wonderful Life, quickly followed by A Christmas Story.

It’s a Wonderful Life is my sentimental favorite, but A Christmas Story makes me smile. We laugh before they show the funny parts because we know what’s coming. Watching it is our family ritual.

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The original narration by the story’s author, the inimitable Jean Shepherd, is a gem. It’s the story of Christmas seen through the eyes of Ralphie, a kid like me. A kid like you. I don’t care how many musicals they make. The original will always be better. Between Jean Shepherd and Darren McGavin, it doesn’t get better than that.

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I’m not sure what my favorite scene is, but it may be when the neighbor’s pack of hounds gets the Christmas turkey. Or perhaps the lighting of the world’s ugliest lamp!

If by some stroke of ill luck you haven’t seen it, it plays on most cable channels sometime in December. Just in case we miss it, we have it — and all our favorite Christmas movies — on DVD. It was released last year on Blu-ray.

It is sometimes poignant, but it is never sappy. It succeeds in being nostalgic without sticky sweetness and funny without being annoying. It may be the best role of Darin McGavin’s career.

THE PERFECT GIFT

Wreath Lights

“I want these earrings, or something as close to it as you can find,” I said, handing him the picture, item number and the website address. The trouble is, my husband doesn’t take orders. If I say I want those earrings, he will buy the other ones because he likes them better. Which would be fine, if he were going to wear them.

I am pretty good at following orders, but it isn’t much fun.  I always tried to find something a little creative … until I realized he didn’t want something unique. He wanted that shirt, that sweatshirt. He didn’t want different colors. He wanted it to look exactly like all his other ties, all his other shirts.

A couple of years ago, my best friend got desperate. She bought the beautiful hand-made leather bag she wanted, handed it to her husband. “Wrap it up,” she said. “You just bought my Christmas present.” That is one approach. I came up with an alternative.

We buy each other something relatively small for Christmas — an “under the tree” gift. We try to be sure it’s something each of us wants. Amazon wish lists can be a big help (just saying). After Christmas, we go shopping. He gets stuff he wants and tries it on. So what if it’s the same stuff he always buys? That’s his choice.

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I buy the earrings I want, a sweater that fits. The electronic gadget I’ve been yearning for, the lens on my wish list.

We are both happy. We shop together, share the experience, get to make suggestions, offer input and have a lot of fun. Prices are always rock-bottom after the holidays are over and if you wait a few extra days, the stores aren’t crowded. It totally removes the stress from trying to find a perfect gift.

It turns out if you bring the recipient with you — and he or she can choose — they will always find the perfect gift.

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STEEDS SPINNING

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At the Heritage Museum and Gardens lighting the other night, among many beautiful, fun things was their winter carousel. In a heated building (yay because it was too cold for comfort!) where the painted ponies went up and down, round and round …

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The carousel no longer has its own calliope, so the music was piped in on speakers. The riders, ranging in age from toddlers to very senior citizens, were undaunted and rode with joy.

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BRAVE STEEDS ON THE WINTER CAROUSEL

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The winter carousel at the Heritage Museum and Gardens lighting had some magnificent steeds.

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Being well-bred and properly trained mounts, they were perfectly safe for riders of all ages and skill levels … and were indeed enjoyed by all.

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WEEKLY PHOTO CHALLENGE: DANCING IN THE DARK

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It was very cold. A light breeze riffled the naked trees wrapped in lights. Music was playing by the exhibit building. Alone, in the dark and cold, by the glow of thousands of Christmas, one couple danced.

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Not so long ago, that would have been Garry and I. Not that we are such great dancers (we aren’t) but because we were so happy to dance together.

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But this night we are not so young. Our backs hurt and the cold is nipping at our feet and fingers. I had a sentimental moment … and then I knew we needed to warm up, inside, away from the starlight and music. But it brought back happy memories and the young couple made me smile.

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