Happy Holidays!


An acquaintance once said, “I don’t celebrate Christmas.” 

“Why not?” I asked. 

“It’s too commercial.  They’ve taken Christ out of Christmas.” 

Ah, that complaint, voiced by many.  There was a time when I voiced it. 

No more.

True, while I can understand the market’s drive for survival, like many, I’m not pleased to see Christmas goodies in the stores before Thanksgiving.  Or like this year, before Halloween.  With seasons tossed together, the spirit of each is threatened.  

On the other hand, are we so fragile we cannot survive such disorder?  Should we decide to shun the celebrations because of how others observe them? 

Why not own each holiday, personalizing it to suit us? 

If others have taken Christ out of Christmas, what’s that to me when I’m free to put him back—along with the pagan roots?  I prefer the old songs, the religious songs, so that’s what I sing.  I like stringing Christmas lights and putting up a tree, so that’s what I do.  I like a turkey in the oven, so that’s what I’ll have.  And presents and cards and a sharing of memories.  And visits with relatives.  That’s my Christmas, and my hubby likes the same. 

If others should choose a Santa Claus day, or Hanukah, or winter solstice celebration, don’t begrudge them.  December holds the shortest day of the year, and it’s a time when people need the coziness of heart.  So let each in his own way find laughter and warmth to brighten the darkness.

Happy Holidays!

Finnegan’s Quest, a fantasy and an allegory

While visiting town I noticed a crow scavenging for food on the sidewalk.  An ordinary scene, right?  Nope.  Neither was my reaction normal for me.  I gasped, on the verge of tears, partly because one of the crow’s legs resembled a flexed elbow upon which it walked, and partly because of the bird’s attitude.  The crow moved with as much ease as if both legs were normal.   It had adapted perfectly to what should have been a devastating injury.

That sight stayed with me.  For my novel, I visualized such a crow with a serene attitude.  She became Crookshank, one my novel’s main characters.

The story takes place when fall colors are at their height, competition for the colorful fur of Finnegan, a red fox.  Finnegan is on a quest for a guru, and he connects repeatedly with Crookshank.

During his quest, he faces dangerous and ridiculous situations.

More on this later.

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