60

He could still salvage this. He looked at her intently. “What can happen in one minute of conversation?”

            Sure enough, it got her attention. “Excuse-“

            “Go!” He checked his watch.

            “You can’t be serious.” She laughed, leaning back. They’d picked a booth for the evening, to help release the tension. The booths were of a fruitwood finish, not too light and not too dark, putting the atmosphere along the line of chatty and cozy.

            Well, we need to work on the chatty part. He thought desperately as her laugh died off. She studied him closely. “Holy crap, you are serious.”

            “When in doubt, do something random.” He insisted.

            “You have a lot of doubt about this, then.” She assumed.

            “Sixty seconds.” was all he replied, starting them on the half-minute mark.

            Her face drew a blank. “W- And you want me to start?” She shook her head. “Typical male, afraid to take the plunge.”

            “I find that unfair since I’m the one who asked you out.” He exclaimed.

The muscles in her face relaxed. “Why did you? Ask me out, that is.”

            “Why wouldn’t I?”

            “Oooohhh no!” she leaned back in over the table. “You don’t pull the spontaneity card and then act all elusive. That just proves my point.”

            “Or you just think it does because you want to be right.” He matched her lean. “You’ve got that take-charge, not-to-be-deterred type of attitude.”

            She snickered. “Thank you?”

            She was fearless too. Three seconds ticked by.

            He needed to reach farther, he guessed. “I hear that Canada is letting people into their national parks for free next year.”

            She didn’t look the slight bit impressed. “Why would you even know that?”

            “I heard about it through a pal on Facebook,” he gained confidence. “I met him during a triathlon in California. We keep in touch about upcoming marathons, Mud Runs, and the like.”

            She nodded at that information. “So, you bike?”

            “And swim, and boat, and hike,” He was getting exited. “Pretty much anything that involves fresh and air. You?”

            “So long as there’s a book next to me.”

            The excitement fled… and so had the minute. What he had learned from it? Not much on compatibility.

            “Not much athletics for you then.” He supposed.

            She cocked a brow slyly. “I become a blue belt next month.”

            “A bookworm and a martial artist?” He looked her over. She did the same, hand cupping her chin. “An outdoorsman and a chauvinist. What a surprise.”

            “You believe in all stereotypes.” he was getting annoyed now. “Or just the ones involving males?”

            “I believe that there’s more to first impressions then people think. If someone puts their best face forward, they care enough about a positive interaction.” She shrugged sadly. “If they don’t, then they don’t care really care… about themselves or any other.”

            That’s condemning. He felt spooked at the coolness with which she stated the words. But he only went, “Hmm.”

            “Hmm.” She went back. “You know it’s been over a minute.”

            “We were able to break the silence.” He pointed out.

            “Sometimes silence is golden.” She smiled. “Sixty seconds, not a word.”

            “Wh-“ he began.

            “Go.”

            He opened his mouth, then shut it. Her eyes pierced him, daring him to look… only to find what? Talk about stereotypes, she was making a mountain out of a mole hole. That was the freaky part about dating. The peeling back of the layers.

            Chill, man! It’s just a minute.

            A minute that had to last forty-six seconds more…

            Guy’s got a chin on him! She was biting her cheek to keep from grinning. She had been noticing the chin because it was rarely without a smile. Inviting, nervous, curious or calm… smiling seemed to be his thing.

            It doesn’t just stay on his lips though. She thought. The feeling climbs through his eyes, over his forehead… how’s THAT possible?!...

            Her hands moved. He locked the muscles in his neck to keep his cheeks from blushing. Why would hands make him blush? Dimwit, she probably wants you to look at her face!...

            Were those ringlets of green- inside his brown eyes? Uh, this guy was making her sweat. Or the silence was. Maybe it had been a bad idea. Probably made him uncomfortable. Well, he started it with his whole ‘do something random’ proverb...

            How many more seconds? He sweated, afraid to check his watch. He didn’t want to back down…

            “Time’s up!”

            Apparently, it wasn’t an issue for her.

            “That was… fascinating.” He cracked on the word, being the only one he could think of. Well, that and one other thing. “So… second date?”

            Her eyebrows rose, lips pursed. She considered him; could she see the sweat?

            “Definitely.” She said, picking up her menu.

~THE END~

As the New Year's approaches, we reflect on the time that's passed in the last 365 days... and we ponder on the 365 days that are ahead. What moments await us? Which ones haunt us? Which ones will we cherish even 20 more New Year's afterwards? Which moments are we going to hold close as reminders of life lessons?

Books, media, sappy Hallmark movies, all talk about our use of time. To take it slowly and make every minute of the day count. The message gets repeated so often, our ears mute it out after awhile. But let's not forget the exhilieration when we're watching that glittery ball drop. It's like the starting shot to a new mile in the race of our lives.

 The Bible says many things along the lines of our time. Ecclesiastes 3 is a familiar passage, highlighting how everything has its season. Its time. Nothing comes before or after its due moment. God makes sure of that. Let's remember to hold that certainty in our minds as this New Year kicks off.

Christmas Colors

When it's Christmas, it's time to wring out your garlands, your table runners, and strike all your nutcracker and snowman figurines on display before your crackling fireplace!

We're able to recognize Christmas decor primarily because of their colors; red, green, and white. You can tine and hue them all you want, but it still boils down to these three as the banner of Christmas.

My query this holiday season, is why? How were these three colors singled out to commemorate the largest international celebration? Fear not, for I did research and found some interesting answers!

Doing this chronologically, the color green was always prominent in the homes of the Romans, the Egyptians, etc. during the winter months. They served as reminders that spring and planting season would come again. This was represented through holly, ivy, mistletoe, or palm branches, depending on the area.

The color red was often a part of Christmas in a similar fashion. Red apples were used as some of the earliest decorations on Christmas trees. In Europe's middle ages, Christmas plays representing Bible stories were thrown for people who couldn't read. The apples on the tree symbolized Adam and Eve's fall into sin. Another symbol of the color red are holly berries representing the blood of Jesus shed on the cross.

Nothing reminds you that it's Christmas like the first snowfall! Most Western cultures attach the color white to the holiday theme of purity and 'peace on earth'. Along with the red apples, white wafers were an early decoration, symbolizing the bread taken at Communion, remembering Jesus' sacrifice for his children.

Lastly, there's the color of gold. If you know the Christmas story, gold was one of the three gifts that the wise men delivered to baby Jesus. People also reference this color when talking about the star that led the wise men to Jesus in Bethlehem. It is a warm color and , much like green, gives people hope for the seasons following winter. 

I found myself surprised in my research as much of the Christmas symbolism pulled closer to the events of Easter, rather then... well, Christmas. Jesus' birth was a beginning, like all babies' births. But his... his was the most important beginning of all. The life that changed everything for the fate of mankind. I could type forever and not have enough words to convey the power of that!

So, there are the colors of Christmas, with their vague origins attached to ponder and think over as you fluff the bare spots out of your tree, replenish the batteries in your spotlights, and hang that mistletoe in just the right spot! 

Enjoy the colors (and the message) of Christmas this year!

Options and Opinions

Let's start with a basic fact;

Option: NOUN - the power or right of choosing

Now, let's move on to an opinion; several commercials have been streaming since November, promoting the items of different stores. And they all end with the same caption 'The naughty list isn't an option'. This campaign REALLY peeves me! That's saying something in a season where it takes a lot to drag me down. But, oh, do they get under my skin!

Yes, it's commercialism and the ad writers will say anything to get people to buy their merch, but this mentality that they're selling... I'm sorry to say that it's already here. There are WAY too many parents out there that don't exercise their power to chose to punish their kids. In their eyes, their kid's too perfect to punish. They don't want to risk their child crying to thinking less of them... all because they acknowledge that their behavior is unacceptable or inappropriate. Or worse, some parents don't want the 'hassle' of disciplining their children.

Newsflash: discipline and punishment are things COMPLETELY within your parental power to do! 'The naughty list isn't an option'?!!!!? You know what else isn't an option? Having a child grow up in the absence of personal responsibility or respect to the world around them.

Am I saying that a lack of discipline is a lack of love? Not at all. Children inspire a very deep and steeled love within their parents. But parents shouldn't let that love cloud them from using the harsher methods to mold their children into thriving adults. What kind of citizens will they be if they're raised without recognizing consequences, or general decency towards others?

And now we've got media outlets telling parents that this natural (and needed) right is NOT an option? No thank you!

Parents, do your children a huge favor and remind them that coal is always an option for their stocking. It won't break them; rather build them up.

(P.S. Nineteen sunsets until the sun rises on Christmas morning!)

Christmas Headlines

Celebrating the day before December 1 never hurt anybody!!!!!

Christmastime is here                                            When Christmas comes to town

O come, Emmanuel                                                It's the Most Wonderful time of the Year

Deck the Halls                                                        Mary did you know?

Trim up the tree with Christmas stuff                     Come All Ye Faithful

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

                                                                              Up on the Housetop 

O Christmas tree, O Tannebaum                           I heard the bells on Christmas Day;

And Jingle Bells                                                    'Joy to the World!'

Upon a Midnight Clear                                         'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen'

Dashing through the snow                                    

In a one-horse open sleigh                                   Hark! The Herald Angels sing

                                                                             O little town of Bethlehem

O Holy Night                                                       We Three kings of Orient

Down Santa Claus lane                                        "This, this, is Christ the King!"

The Little Drummer Boy

And Frosty the Snowman hurrying on his way      Infant so tender and mild

                                                                               Away in a manger

Good Tidings to you and your kin                         You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear

Tidings of comfort and joy                                    Christ the Savior is born...

The Holly and the Ivy                                           Christ the Savior is Born!


Dreaming of a White Christmas

A Winter Wonderland

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire

Sleigh bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling too

Night Light ~ A Post to All Veterans

         Rachel's eyes snapped open.

          It was dark.

          Across from her eyes, her clock read 2:47 a.m., but that was irrelevant. Her room wasn't dark at 2:47, or at 3:47 or even 4:47 in the morning. Not for a minute in the night was her bedroom considered dark. Shadowy sure, but dark, NO!

          Rachel threw back her sheets and hit the floor in her bare feet. How is this even happening?

          Her pulse had jumpstarted now, propelling her through the upstairs hall and to the top of the stairs. Its mounting beat had her narrowly missing the thumping tail of Everett. At her rush, the brown and white spaniel's nails scrambled up, following Rachel down to the pantry off of the laundry room. Rachel didn't bother to look for the stool that her stout form needed. She jumped up, felt the box on the top shelf and grabbed it up. Obeying gravity however, the box slipped and hit the ground. Everett rushed in and sniffed it out, but Rachel shoved him off of it. She had the bow ripped open by the time she had the front door agape.

          The chilly March night reminded her of her short sleeves and her near slip reminded her of the dew-glazed lawn. But Rachel was too determined for that. She already had the 1800-watt bulb out as she wrestled between the bushes. There were five of them that circled the proud, silver flagpole that erected out of the middle.

          I'll get it back on! Rachel streamlined through her brain, fumbling her fingers over the bulb. I'll get it back on, I'll get it...

          The hexagon of shrubs sat back some ten feet from the curb and was a connector between the homes of the Travolskys and the Cleveens. It had been long before Rachel was even born. Mr. Cleveen- or P.B.- and Grandpa had both served through Vietnam and Korea. Not together, but this knowledge had been enough to seal their friendship when the Travolskys had moved in in 1986. Grandma and Bunny- or Mrs. Cleveen- had bought the flagpole together; the flag too, for their husbands. It had flapped proudly for them everyday since.

          It continued even now. Rachel could hear its coaxing waves overlapping with the wind. But there was no light for her to see it with. And she couldn't get the burned out bulb to uncork from the frame!

           "Useless piece of..." Rachel trailed the sentence off, digging her knees into the mulch, resolved in her seating until she had replaced the bulb. Somehow, it had burned out. That was unacceptable! The flag was to always be lighted, always above the ground...

          "Everett, get!" Rachel pushed the canine back. She ignored his whimper; she'd apologize later.

          "Need help?"

          Rachel's arms freaked, dropping the bulb that had finally come undone. She looked up to see Uncle Corbin peeking down at her over the tops of the bushes. He was an uncle in the sense that he and Rachel's dad had grown up almost joined at the hip.

          "I got it." Rachel insisted.

          "I know." Uncle Corbin nodded. Then he squirmed through his family's half of the shrubs, bent down, and held the lamp head steady for her. This gave Rachel a second of pause before slipping the new bulb in, screwing it tight. At her final turn, light beamed her and Uncle Corbin in the face. Rachel felt its heat at once and fell back. And allowed herself to breath.

          "This couldn't wait until morning?" Uncle Corbin muttered.

          "No." Rachel told him, watching him from where he watched her on his hunches. He glanced away to view up, up, up the pole. They listened to the flag together, and Rachel knew where their thoughts were. Over the Midwest farmlands and into the Middle East sand dunes... where Dad and Aunt Michelle were. Rachel had familiarized herself with lots of pictures- some from Dad, others from the Internet. One word associated them all- chalky. She often wondered what the air would taste like there. Her dad was breathing it right now; so she and Grandma, Grandpa and the Cleveens could breath in their own air.

          They'll see the light. Rachel reasoned, wrapping an arm around Everett's soft neck. Dad'll see it. And as soon as he can, he'll come home.

'Our debt to the heroic men and valiant women in the service of our country can never be repaid. They have earned our undying gratitude. America will never forget their sacrifices.'

~President Harry S. Truman~ 

THE END