Well, Christmas is over for another year.. We had a great time! Nat made homemade caramel (the ones with cinnamon in are the best), and some type of chocolate pretzel nut thing that was way awesome.)
Of course this is not helping my diet at all. This year we had Randy home. (He spent the last 2 Christmas’s in the West Indies) he seemed excited about all the stuff and family.
The kids acted like they were 10 again, Calling me early on Christmas morning to say what they had gotten, talking very high pitched and fast, non stop don’t take a breath or even blink talk about everything they got then wanting to say what the other one got. (This was the boys, Jo, being more grown up and all didn’t start acting goofy till they got to our house.)
For a family gift we had bought Guitar Hero 3. That in it self is a story. We searched high and low the day after Thanksgiving for it but no avail. We did find #2 so bought it just so we had the game etc. Then the next week in El Paso TX I saw #3 for the 360 in Wal Mart. So I bought it. I had to carry it on the plane home since it would not fit in my suitcase and I did not want to risk checking it alone. Boy did I get comments and looks from some people. The funniest was from a lady who said “why are you carrying that.” She was wearing a huge Sombrero that I had seen the bridge people selling. I told her that “at least mine will fit in the over head bin,” smiled politely and boarded. She boarded a few moments later and as luck would have it sat right behind my seat. Good thing I smiled at her. I had to not giggle as I heard her the whole flight fighting with her huge hat and not wanting to wreck it etc. All the while above our heads my box lay alone and undisturbed.
So anyway, the kids had a blast playing Guitar Hero 3 with Nat and each other. It was truly a family gift.;
We also had a great time just being with family. We spend time with both Nat’s family and mine. (She beat her brother Dee on Guitar Hero as well.) Christmas eve night we were home alone and sat and watched Hairspray that I had bought for her knowing how she loves that movie.
All in all a great Christmas.
So here I sit in sunny Juarez Mexico. Just over the border from El Paso Texas. My work brings me here now about once a month for a few days. I have a team of 13 people who work here. I also have a team of 19 people who work in India for me. I will probably go visit them this spring for a week.(But I am not looking forward to that trip) I also get to travel to New Jersey every 3 months or so. The point of all this is that I have said that I should use my travel time to write, but I never do. I used to travel a lot but never took advantage of it. About 5 years ago I spent 7 months unemployed and looking back should have used that time to work on writing more, but things come up. The only person to blame for not taking the time to write is myself. We are all given the same amount of time each day etc. This trip will be different.(Because I will make it so) I was able to write a bit while at the airport last night, but then all the people trying to get somewhere for Christmas kept catching my attention. (People watching is a big distraction while traveling.) Tomorrow I get the joy of taking my team out to eat at a Mexico Buffet…not really sure how that is going to turn out (since I do not speak Spanish) but should give me writing material if nothing else.
I must admit that in reading “Twilight” that I can see why so many women love this book. She has been able to capture romance in a very nice package. The feelings of the characters are real.
Nat and I were talking about this the other day and she mentioned that she can’t stop thinking about how the book ended. She wonders what the characters are doing now etc. That is the highest complement any writer could get! The characters are seen as real people to the reader.
For me it depends on the mood I need to get in. I love soundtracks. Man from Snowy river always transports me to mountains and horses. Gladiator = fighting. Some of the others are Braveheart to just get in the mood to think fantasy, Conan (movie 1) soundtrack for a feeling of just power, Lord of the Rings for sweeping battle scenes. Riverdance for a Celtic kind of mood.(as well as the Celtic Women whenever I need to get out of a bad mood). I also will listen to Clannad whenever I want to work on my Robin Hood story.
I will pay close attention when we go to a show on how the music and the feeling of the scene goes together. One of the best is Pirates 1, the first time we see Jack Sparrow. This song is repeated in the 3rd movie with a similar scene(bigger ship) and the same music strain. Yeah I notice those things.
In my head I have several scenes I have written or plan to write that have specific music that goes with them. One is the song “Conquistador” by Maynard Ferguson. It involves a wedding, the bride being stolen on dragon back and then the brides true love chasing after her on his own winged mount.(not sure if it is a dragon or he has wings himself) the music just fits. Oh yeah, theme from Rocky is another great image from the film that will always stick with that music. You can hear the trumpets now can’t you. You can see him dancing on the top of those stairs. I though so, you all have your own music that goes on in your heads.
So Nat and I went to the Christmas Concert with the Mormon Tabernacle choir and their special guests, the Kings singers, last night. It was great. We try to get tickets and go every year. This was by far the best they have done yet! It was cold, boy was it cold. As we were walking in the crowd I once again realized why I hate crowds. People are just stupid!!!! They push and shove, they stop right in the middle of the walkway and glare at you when you bump into them. (Ok, so sometime you want to bump into them extra harder, cuz you have been trying to get around them for the last 5 minutes and they are weaving side to side and wont let you push on.) A lot of people act like they are entitled to do what they want to and everyone else needs to just work around them. This happens any time there is a crowd. The biggest problem people…women with strollers. You would think there would be a common sense in pushing a stroller but no! You would think they would be considerate of where they are shoving it since it is holding their child but no…they just push and then go “Oh sorry I just didn’t see you.”
Well, in all fairness the crowd wasn’t that bad, but it was still a crowd. But while in the concert my other pet peeve came up, people talking while the show is going. It is times like that I wish I was a real wizard and knew magic. I would practice my silence spells so I could make people stop talking as well as speed some of them up as they walked. Oh well, no magic like that around, although my glare is pretty good at shutting people up. That skill has been worth the pratice!
The other night I was flipping through the channels and came across High School Musical 2 playing on Disney. It was about 3/4th s the way through. I sat for a minute and before I knew it the show was over. Even though I have seen it 3-4 times I still sat and watched it. The same happens any time Grease is on. No matter what part it starts at you end up sitting there and before you know it Danny and Sandy are taking the T-Bird into the sky. Several other shows do that. Disney’s Suite life, Hanna Montana, or Buffy, Newsies and Goonies to name a few. My wife has the same weakness for Reality TV. It doesn’t matter that she has seen the show before, some she watches again and again. That is sheer genius on the part of the writers or maybe just being stupid on my part. Doesn’t matter, I enjoy the shows no matter the reason.
After living 92 years, the cold of winter doesn’t leave my bones until mid day in the height of summer . But, I am grateful to be able to feel the cold. It means I still have time.
I take pen in hand to fulfill a promise I made to my Lessal. She made me promise that before I come to meet her, to tell my story, to tell the truth about the legends, the truth about the man.
Soon, the gate will open in the court yard, River, my trusted companion, will bark a welcome. Small feet will be heard running up the path through the door and into my arms burying my face in kisses and hugs. The shouts of “Grandpapa, tell me a story” will be heard. One look into that Lessal eyes, and all my defenses will be shattered. I will be forced to put the pen down and obey delaying the promises fulfillment.
Many know the legend; how the man became hunted, the impossible shot that won not only the contest but the heart of a maid. They know how I met him and of our friendship. They know the names of some of the key players, but not all. They know how he opposed the tyrant, gave aid to those in need and the King returning to power. Many have heard but they don’t know. They stop at happily ever after.
Some know the stories that these legends are based on. Some know people who knew these stories first hand. But, they don’t know the truth. I am the last that can say, I knew the man. I alone know the sorrow that filled him, the constant battle within concerning his status of “hero”. The many traps that were set to snare him, his escape from each, except one. The concern he had for his men. The return of the tyrant and the promises that were forgotten by the King. I know the joy of family that consoled us in that time of darkness. I know the truth of his death. I alone know the traitors names and how, through selfishness a family was tortured and butchered. Images that even now haunt my sleep, only to be stopped by those brought froth from the touch of my ever present staff. The same staff I had as a boy, the same I fought side by side with him. The same staff that caved in the head of the traitor, oh the joy I felt as her brains splattered on my face and arms. Blood splashing around my feet as the smell of his guts spilling out filled the air. Even now, so many years later, I still feel satisfaction and a small sense of justice.
My Lessal made me promise to tell my story, so that the truth would always be there for our children. I have done that. They and their children, even their children’s children know the stories, but little Robert is not old enough to learn them, and I fear that before he can, I will be gone, the truth leaving with me. Little Lessal knows them all, but being 7 she my forget, so I feel the need to write while I can.
I hear the gate opening and Rivers bark. Soon sunshine will fill this room and I will be forced to set this pen down.
I have been known by several names, but only a few hold any meaning for me. I was born in a small village called Lyttle, and given the name of Jon by my father. My little Lessal calls me Grandpapa, My beloved Lessal called me, husband. Others, giant or fiend, but the one that fills me with pride, still bringing tears to my eyes, is simply this; Friend, of Robin of Locksley. I am Little John and this is my story.
Last night we went to Natalie’s work Christmas party. She has been there just over 5 years and her company gets together with spouses and families, 3 times a year. Christmas, Buzz Baseball game and the summer picnic.
As a spouse it is always interesting to go to these things and see people who were there last time and then the new people that my wife talks about at work. For the first 5 years of our marriage we both worked at the same place so it made these types of get together events a bit different.
I have to admit her work is like a family. They are small enough that the workers know each other and seem happy to see each other.
So while there we got the salad. As usual with the salad we had a slice of a beet on the plate. No one ever eats the beets! They are like a color addition to help break up the green of all the lettuce. Well, one spouse that was there said he loved beets, so we all passed his plate around, added our beet to it and watch him eat them. I offered to do that with the cake that was there for dessert but no one took me up on the offer.
Nat also created little bags of chocolate as a “favor” for each plate. Now this is why women are put in charge of these things, guys do not care about adding a favor to the place setting. Let alone weather the bag and bow match and certainly don’t care if they are all placed in the exact same spot on each of the 100+ places! Anyway, I digress, the place was only ½ full,(which brings up another rant…for those of you that don’t think it matters if you go or not, especially after you said you would be there-and you know you are this type-don’t realize want a ripple effect it has on the planner and trying to get companies to do it again)Ok down off the box---as everyone was leaving it was funny to see people grab extra of the little things to give to family not there, or a primary class, or the best was to send to the MTC since their son had just entered it. So I guess the little things really matter.
SO it started snowing Friday night and it looked so great. Then Saturday morning at 10 am the power went out. It stayed out until 2:30 AM SUNDAY MORNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Good luck we had the gas fireplace. Randy curled up on the couch under a few blankets to read a book. Nat sat by the fireplace in a blanket and a book. I got under blankets and grabbed a book. We spent the day reading. It makes you appreciate the gadgets we have as well as the difference a good book makes.
We had a dance to take pictures at Saturday night so Nat put curlers in her hair and sat by the fireplace to have it dry. She looked so cute sitting there reading her vampire love story with her hair up etc.
Good thing it came on or we might have had to miss church (not really)
So I got thinking about my next set of stories. I am so in love with the Robin Hood story. But I think it would be great to read it from others point of view. So I will post some of these ideas here.
I also have ideas on a twist of the Christmas story. That one has been bouncing around for 8 years now and really comes on strong this time of year. Basically called "The Inn Keepers Son". The Christmas story told from the eyes of 2 10 year old boys. One the son of the Inn Keeper with dreams of being a Roman soldier and one a Shepard boy with nothing to dream about. The story starts at the inn and follows them thru-out their lives to end at the cross where they meet one last time.
The problem of having lots of ideas is that unless you write them down you will lose them.
