Judy P's Tickle Trunk

….. my true love gave to me:

..you might ask. Oh you know, the usual stuff; making things, baking things, and hanging elves.

The Christmas baking went well. I made knock-off Harry and David almond blackberry galettes that are so good that they make me swear when I eat them. To what do I swear? To diet. In January. After the cookies run out. After all, my Wii is already telling me that I am obese.

I suppose I shouldn’t take it too seriously. It also tells me that my fitness age is 33 and that my ideal weight is 119 pounds. I haven’t weighed 119 pounds since grade ten. Before Christmas in grade ten.

I also made a new recipe of white chocolate, macadamia nut and cranberry cookies. They are also good but they don’t make me swear. I do fear eating too many of them though, so I have been giving them out to anyone who comes to the door: postal workers, package delivery guys. I forced the last fellow who came to take extra. Better on his friggin’ hips. Hmmm, perhaps they are swear-worthy.

Yesterday I made lemon-ginger marmalade. It is more gingery than lemony and oh so tasty. It will be competing for space on my hips. That is because it has waaa-aay more sugar than it does marma or lade in it. I might have to start forcing marmalade onto people at the door as well.

What about the elves? NO!!!! Not lynching! Hanging elf decorations. And they really aren’t elves. I think they are more along the line of travelling minstrels.

I was intrigued when I saw them in the Christmas room at the thrift store. They are quite large, about eight inches high and heavy. Can’t figure where they are from or what is their purpose; they’d haul the branch down to the carpet if you tried to hang them on the tree. So I hung them from a ceiling hook. They got me to thinking: maybe they are not really Christmas ornaments. Perhaps they are Shakespeare’s birthday ornaments or summer solstice ornaments. Which got me wondering what really makes any ornament a Christmas ornament. But more on that next post. I’m going to go have a cup of tea and hang out with my new minstrel friends. Give me a leg up to that hook will you, please and thanks.

© Judy Parsons 2019

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…or Don’t Touch That, You Don’t Know Where It’s Been

Well my package of photos finally arrived one day after their estimated arrival date. A few years ago I would have thought that was just normal time spent processing and travelling. Now, thanks to the wonders of tracking I can see that the processing happened the same day I ordered the stuff (Nov 25). The rest was travel. And what a roundabout route it took.

So I sat my little package down and asked for an explanation. Here’s what it told me.

“Well it was kind of exciting to be on the road; I’d never been outside of Texas – spent four empty years sitting on a shelf in a warehouse. Now here I was about to see some of the country. I ate peaches and boiled peanuts in Georgia. What’s with boiled peanuts anyway? Slimier’n okra. And then once I saw I was in Florida, well. What could I do? I’ve never been to Disney. That’s where I got this danged crease …..

…sneaking in under the fence. Well after that I thought I’d make my way over to Daytona to see the race-cars but on the way I got in with a bunch of rogue mail in Jacksonville and we all took off for Tampa. There wasn’t too much going on there so when they suggested we head over to Miami for the vice I was in.

I thought they meant the TV show but this was a bad crowd of rogue envelopes and I wasn’t surprised when we got detained by the Miami-Dade polive. When they saw I was a package of photos and that I was was bent I was taken downtown, charged and photographed and sent of to clink.

I ended up in jail in Opa Locka. Y’all probably never knew this but is where all wayward packages end up. Seriously. Google it. Some kind old package that’s been there for fourteen years, a Christmas cake from Noerthern Maine, bailed me out and I hitched a ride on a Fed-ex truck to Jacksonville then Caught an Uber to Gainesville and here I am. I’m pretty battered and bruised but if you’re up for it I’d sure like to get out and see those manatees. But can you unload me first? I’ve carried this burden long enough”

I can only believe what I’m told. After all every little thing has its story.

© Judy Parsons 2019