The Season of "Giving"

Photo copyrighted by Jennifer E. Miller 2017

The Season of "Giving"

By,

Jennifer E. Miller

Let's start with a poem, shall we?

It's that time of year again. 

There's a nip in the air and bronchitis flares. 

Toes go numb and reflux needs Tums.

Eagles flock along the lake and cameras break.

So....

When the hell is summer coming back? 

This season is oh so pleasantly giving me plenty. Does winter take refunds? Cause I'd sure like to toss back a handful of unnecessary items. I don't think any of them would make decent white elephant gifts.

Who likes being sick? No one. Albeit my younger self when I skipped school due to chickenpox and watched cartoons all day long. Grandma fed me noodle soup with as many Zesta crackers as I wanted. She shoved a can of 7Up with a straw bobbing in the seltzer bubbles, insisting I would get healthy faster if I drank it a room temperature. I didn't believe her but wasn't going to turn down pop. Fast forward a few decades and sickness seems to hang around longer than it used to. Why do coughs hang around for morbidly long periods of time? I don't have time for this. Or reflux or foot problems.

There is a good thing about winter. Bald eagles congregate at Lake Coeur d'Alene to feast on the kokanee. It's fun to watch them. Driving over, Tom and I spotted eight perched in a tree. They leap from their branch and glide over the water's surface, scooping up a fish. The eagles also makes for a popular photography spot. After recently getting my camera repaired, I was excited to put it to use. It was working fine the weeks after the repairs. Go figure on the day I need it most, it acts up again. I tried all the troubleshooting tricks I could think of, but it was overexposing all my images. Some even came out completely white-washed. Finally, I found a work-around that gave me a handful of, at least, workable images. (The eagle at the top of this page is the one semi-kind-sorta decent eagle photo. It's a little blurry, but he is staring right at me.) I don't know what winter did to my camera, but it quit bullying it anytime now.

Frustrated with my camera, I decided a hike on the Mineral Ridge Trail nearby was in order. Tom tried to tell me not to do it for a multitude of reasons: it's too cold; my foot wasn't in bad shape; we both had coughs. The most important reason: he didn't want to. So off we went.

I only wanted to hike a small portion to the nearest viewpoint. At the trail head, a sign says to stay to the right as the sign to the left said "do not enter." Apparently, they want hikers walking in one direction. Well, the shortest distance to the viewpoint was to the left so that's where I started walking. Tom, being a rule follower, mentioned the sign to me. I snuffed, suggesting the probability someone comes at us with a shotgun were slim. Besides, I was grumpy and not interested in following any rules.

The ground was covered with patches of ice crystals that caught my attention. They looked like something out of Tinkerbell's fairyland. 

Photo by Jennifer E. Miller 2017

An interesting topographical quirk is that the top of the hills have frost, while the lower sections don't (at least, not yet). We reached an area where the trees on the outer section had said frost, but not the trees on the inner section. It was like walking through The Snow Queen's kingdom.

Photo by Jennifer E. Miller 2017

While, so far, the season isn't exactly what I planned, I tried to make the most from it. Winter is not my favorite season, after all. 

Things I like about summer: warmth, outdoors, berry harvests, and road trips. My birthday used to be included in this list, but now the years are creeping forward way to darned fast. Summer can keep that day.

Things I like about winter: when it's over.



Copyright 2017 Jennifer E. Miller

The Bell Still Rings for Us

All Aboard The Polar Express!

By,

Jennifer E. Miller

The Polar Express exists. Not just the story, the train; the actual train. Believers of Santa ride The Polar Express all the way to the North Pole. With the super powers of Grandma Joyce*, we had seats secured. The magic starts in the town of Elbe WA, where we board the locomotive. It's like being in the movie. Riders wear pajamas (we opted for robes), get special gold boarding tickets, enjoy hot hot...well, now, I can't divulge everything in the introduction paragraph can I?...

Toot! Tooooooot! blows the whistle.

"All aboard the Polar Express!" announces the conductor. With our tickets in hand, we hop on the train and take our seats. The Polar Express theme song playing through the sound system. The conductor keeps on his very tight schedule, but finds time to punch our tickets, dusting us with confetti remnants. The engine exhausts its sizzling steam and the train lurches forward to begin our journey.

First, of course, we are served hot! hot! chocolate! The wait staff dances to the hot chocolate song up and down the aisle then twirl to present us with a cup of hot hot chocolate and a cookie.

Just as we lean back and relax in our seats, the Hobo shows up. No! No! No! Not Grandpa Darren*; the Hobo from The Polar Express. He makes his rounds, ensuring there aren't any Santa doubters aboard.

Good news! Everyone is a believer and we approach the North Pole. It's dark outside and we can't see a thing. But then, we glide by glittery houses, and soon the twinkling sparkle of the town's Christmas tree comes into view. There, in front, waving to us, is Mr. C. 

 He is seen for only a moment, and disappears.

Where did he go? Isn't he supposed to greet the children aboard The Polar Express before departing on his sleigh? Maybe we aren't true believers after all. 

"Ho! Ho! Ho!" says a jolly voice.

Who's there? wonder the kids. 

They turn around to see a man with a white beard and a velvety red suit. 

What do you know? We are all believers after all. 

Photo from Grandma Joyce

But that's not all. Santa has a surprise. The first gift of Christmas. Can you guess what it is? That's right. A bell. A shiny, crisp, jingly bell. 

The ride back is filled with singing and Christmas Carols. The kids get to dance in the aisle to their hearts' content.

In this version of The Polar Express, Gia* doesn't have a hole in her robe's pocket. The bell makes it safely home. It's hanging in a souvenir picture frame along with a photo. When tapped, even Tom* and I can hear it. A reminder that no matter how old we are, "the bell still rings for me."

*(Names changed for privacy)

Coffeepot

This week I bring a haiku poem. Haiku is a Japanese poetry technique of three lines, totaling seventeen syllables, with a 5-7-5 rhythm. Generally, they contain an image, a descriptive element, and a juxtaposition of the two. Please note that, if you were to internet search various haikus, many would fall out of the 5-7-5 rhythm. This is because the translated Japanese words to English words don't necessary have the same syllables. (Hello has two syllables, versus four with konnichiwa.)

Coffeepot

Empty coffeepot,

seeks attention from master.

Sits, waits for morning.

Photo by Jennifer E. Miller 2017

Copyright 2017 Jennifer E. Miller