Shiver me timbers....

IT'S COLD!  This was my comment to Mossy as we walked this afternoon.  "Weenie" was her reply.  Mossy told of a cold at Yellowstone that froze her eyelids to her cheeks while she slept.  "Why, oh why would you stay so long in such a climate?"  I asked.    She told me it was to attend the fairies festival.  Mossy described a gathering of fairies that only a wild untamed expanse such as Yellowstone could hold.  Fairies from Ireland, Canada, why even Hawaii!  I spit out my coffee on that one.  Picture it:  small fairy, grass skirt, lei, and a buffalo snorting close by.  "Why at one point,"  she pointed out.  "You could not even find a vacant spot at Moose Falls to sit down."  I know better than to ask, but my mouth opens anyway.  "A spot to sit?"  "Yes, the canoes start up Crawfish Creek and we see who survives the Falls."  "See,"  I think,  "I should have kept my mouth shut."  Now I'm picturing tiny canoes with a Mossy relative sitting pointed hat and all holding on for dear life, airborne.  "Survive?"  I sort of squeaked out.  Mossy was delighted with my reaction and begins to pantomime a rather dramatic crash and then subsequent drowning.  One look at my face and she let out a hoot.  "Don't you know that I'm a pulling your leg?  Wee gnomes (as you like to call us) swim like fish.  In fact, one of our favorite past times is to swim upstream with salmon.  You know, a bit of exercise and to keep them company.  Them bears are kinda fun to mess with along the way.  They think they're going to catch dinner swiping under the current and instead up we pops and spits water up their noses! Of course, ya better be ready to REALLY swim after that move."  Mossy is now tight-rope walking the edge of the kitchen cabinets and from the corner of my eye Be'Be' flits in and out of the tree.  "Mossy, will Be'Be' ever leave the Christmas Tree?"  "Not til you take it down" she quipped quickly back.  Now as a rule I can't think of any month of the year that needs twinkle lights like January.  Yes, this means that I don't take down the Christmas tree until......ahhhhh.....Valentines?  Or is it March winds that start the process?  Hmmmm, I think as I pour another cup of coffee......I surely would adore to see that tiny fairy for more than 3 seconds at a time.  But take the tree down early ......................................NEVER!

a fairy in my tree.......

Betcha don't have one of those!!!!!  Actually, can't believe I do.  No sooner had I walked in the front door, wings whirled and a swoosh could be heard.  Be'Be' flew straight from my head to the tree, promptly disappearing within it's branches.  It was only a tiny bit bigger than a firefly and once again I wondered.  "Did I really see that?"  Unequivocally, the answer is YES!  Seriously, who makes this stuff up?  "MosSY", I stamped my foot for effect.  Hmmmm, there was none produced.  

I sat down to watch and wonder.  Wonder.  Tis the season for such.  How many times have I sat with all but the Christmas tree lights on and watched it in awe?  December finds me often beginning a night's sleep in just such a fashion.  I squint, my eyes blurring together the ornaments and lights.  I strain, my eyes searching to see each tiny detail of the years of collections.  I have crooked little beaded candy canes, photos of children's faces tucked into a myriad of handmade frames, even a little first grade rendition of the manger scene drawn on fabric, framed in a hoop.  Handmade creations from my children and grandchildren.  No matter it's current condition, they are on the tree.  Christmas and memories.  They can fill you with warmth.  They can fill you with an almost unbearable yearning.  There are voices and laughter that can no longer be heard but in the corridors of your mind.  They float in your memories sometimes almost seeming to tease as you reach for more......  Just as I started down this bittersweet path, she flew out from behind a Big Bird ornament and back in behind the sequined felt pink elephant.  It was then that I noticed her wings are like baby ferns-fiddle heads as some are called.  However, no fiddle head had I beheld (until now) produced an almost phosphorous glow of sprinkles.   Be'Be' coo-chirps. You want to say it's an infant's coo, but then it seems so similar to a Black Cap Chickadee's chirp.  It's delightful regardless.  An ornament on a branch slightly sways.  There she is again!  She seems to hang suspended as she appears to be studying the ornaments.  Turning to wink my direction she rose ever higher and once again entered the tree somewhat close to Snoopy & his doghouse.  The clock tick tocks.  I began to nod as sleep calls my name.  Stretching out on the sofa, I wonder......of a tiny chirping fairy........of where Miss Mossy has been.........of the delights of this special season..........of wonder itself.........  Oh, may one never lose the pure essence of wonder!

whaT, whAT, wHAT, a, MOOSE????

gLORY BE!!!! This can only mean one thing.....MOSSY'S BACK!  This was my thought as I rounded the corner of the house.  I needed to check to make sure the Christmas yard blowup of snowmen had fully inflated.   There, nose to nose with the snowmen, stood a moose, YES A MOOSE! He was completely mesmerized by the Snowman globe.....had to be.....or was he missing the snow? 

Oh, whatever...... "MOSSY WHERE ARE YOU?"  And with the abandon of a child, she lept off the porch and squarely onto my shoulders.  Picture one leg on each side of my neck as she managed to create a rats nest of my hair which stood perfectly straight up when she finished.   How does one start yelling at a creature one has missed oh so very much?  Well, I figured it out and I did.  "MOSSY, WHERE IN TARNATION HAVE YOU BEEN?  WHAT DID YOU JUST DO TO MY HAIR?  YOU SCARED ME TO DEATH WITH YOUR DISAPPEARING ACT AND........ MOSSY, WHAT IS MOVING IN MY HAIR?????????? "Be'Be', is sleeping so stop yelling at me!  she demanded.  "There is a living thing in my hair?"  I was scared to touch it while simultaneously wanting to shave the whole mess off.  "Oh, here, let me show you".  And with that Mossy's tiny plump hand reached in and rummaged around.  "Good griefus, MOssy!"  I muttered, while trying to not run for a pair of scissors.  "Shhhhhh, your waking her up"  Mossy hissed in my ear, but I couldn't have spoken, if I wanted to.  Before my nose, held in Mossy's chubby little hand was a creature of pure enchantment.  She stretched and she yawned and I was spellbound for sure.   Looking much like a Gerber baby except for the wings, she winked at me.  She was oh so very tiny from her perfect little fingers to her tiny perfect toes.   Her wings began to whirl much like a hummingbirds and seemingly began scattering a fine sprinkle of glow-in-the-dark-dust around her in a halo.  Rising from MOssy's hand she settled back onto the top of my head and briefly I thought I heard the tiniest of sighs. Sarcastically, I asked if Mossy planned on staying around for abit.  Can you please, explain why we so often lash out when all we would rather do is hug someone (or gnome) until they begged for mercy?  Poof.  Aaahhh, I'd done it again, but I knew she would be hanging around regardless of "poofing".  Because, as you see, even now I could hear slight snores coming from the Be'Be' in my hair!!!!!!