How Do You Pick Your Christmas Presents?

How do you choose who gets what present for Christmas?
I hate asking, What would you like for Christmas? It takes the surprise out of it.

Here's what my children Diane and Molly used to do to me.

Kids: Mom, we never know what to get you for Christmas. This year, make a list of everything you would like to have and put the one thing you want at the top of your list.

 Me: It will take all of the surprises out of Christmas morning.

Kids: If you don't cooperate you'll end up with socks, glove, and a scarf again this year. Oh, yeah, and we never forget the chocolate covered cherries. You don't have to put those on the list.

Me: When do you want this list?

Kids: Two weeks. In two weeks we'll give you and Dad our lists and you guys can give us yours.

Two weeks past and we are all at the kitchen table having dinner.

Kids: We have our lists do you have yours? (They look from me to their Dad and give us huge smiles)

Jump forward to Christmas morning. Five-thirty a.m. actually. Molly could never wait. ( Sometime

 I'll tell you how excited she was to go swimming on vacation and jumped into the deep end of the swimming pool before she could swim.)

The kids could never remember who helped clean the kitchen last or took out the trash, but they took turns giving out presents each year. They never forgot whose turn it was.

Everyone gets their first present and we wait our turn to open them so we could ooh and aww at the gifts we each received.

The first present wasn't on my list.
The second wasn't on my list, nor was the third, or the fourth.
As a matter of fact, I did not get one of the presents I put on my list.

I didn't want to act ungrateful or embarrass them so I let it go.
Next year-repeat of the year before.
So I asked, "why do you ask for a list when you never by anything I write down
Answer: If we bought you the gifts on your wish list you wouldn't be surprised.

https://tinyurl.com/ycu3msry     99 cents until Christmas Eve

Apples, Apples, and more Apples

  

Here on the farm, we have five varieties of apples-Gala, Fuji, Red Delicious, Jonagold, and Arkansas Blacks.
Seems like each year one variety takes the spotlight. This year it was Fuji. 

Due to the draught, our apples were small. When I sold them at the Farmer's Market next to a man who had 5000 apple trees (we had 154), he would laugh and say my apples were too small. His fruit looked as if it came out of a catalog. Of course, it looked like that because it was sprayed every month, twelve months a year.
 We are all natural. We use no sprays or fertilizers other than chicken, sheep, and cow manure.
 The Farmer's Market is where I learned how few children and adults in a certain group eat fruit. 

I took a wicker basket and filled it full of apples and pears. Every child who passed my truck, I offered a piece of fruit. At least two children a week ask - which is the apple and which is the pear? Kids were familiar with applesauce and apple pie, but not real apples. Most had never seen or eaten a pear. My goal the first year was to educate children about fruit.  Now mind you, it wasn't all the kids. But the ones who didn't know fruit belonged to the parents who visited the pie lady, the cookie lady, and the guy with the honey sticks.

I was so upset about it I wrote a children's book about how apples are grown in an orchard, Diggitty Dog on the Farm.

Do you know stone fruits, such as peaches, plums, and nectarines
bloom first and then leaf out? Fruits like apples get their leaves first and then the blossoms. Many peach crops don't make it in the colder regions because of it. We only get a peach crop here at the farm about every five years. 

 There are so many stories to share about the farm. Come back again soon. 
You can email me at susankeenebooks@gmail.com or leave a comment below.
Peace.

The Idea for the Twisted Mind of Cletus Compton

This summer, for the first time in years, I had a schedule. This put me on a long, dark (more like pitch black), lonely road to my home  several nights a week.
Being a writer, I should be able to describe to you what made the hair on the back of my neck stand up as I drove.
The road goes between one small town in the Ozarks to an even smaller farm community with only one viable business, a convenience store.
About a mile down this road you lose the light from the first town and the light from the quick stop ahead of you is not yet bright enough to be visible. All you have to guide you is your headlights.
There is no shoulder on the road. On one side, the back of fence of several farms flashes in the headlights. The other side is a hill goes up and disappears into the shadows, just past that is the railroad track.
In the last ten years, I have driven this road a thousand times, but this summer it triggered a recurring nightmare.
In my nightmare, I as drive down this road I spot something. I slow down to  take a closer look. I spy a large wooden crate made of sassafras sticks tied together with yellow baling twin.
I turn the car toward the box so the light shines on it and slowly get out. The box is about 20 yards away. Should I go see if anything is in the box or should I stay close in case it is dangerous?
Something moves and I jump, trip over a rock and land on both hands and knees. From that position, I can see there is a small human chained to the crate.
At that point, I wake up.
I had this dream every night. It got so I hated to close my eyes.
One night when I woke up from my scary dream, I jumped up and went to my office where I wrote it down. That was at 2 am. At 6 am I was still writing and I was on chapter 6. That is how the Twisted Mind of Cletus Compton became a novel.
The funny thing is, after that night I never had the nightmare again.
Hum... leave me a comment and tell me what you think. Where did the dream come from? Why did it go away so abruptly?