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In styles, methods, and ideas of Carol, Clements, and Milne comes a story that I hope you feel instantly at home with. I find it is similar to listening to someone telling a story on the telephone. Now and then, you know something has been said on the other end of the line. You know what it was by the conversation on your side. You have not heard it, but you just know. There is no doubt. With that in mind, this is a story that holds out the hope and joy of Christmas. It should be shared aloud while you are snuggled under something soft and comfy with someone you love, with a mug of something…mehr
In styles, methods, and ideas of Carol, Clements, and Milne comes a story that I hope you feel instantly at home with. I find it is similar to listening to someone telling a story on the telephone. Now and then, you know something has been said on the other end of the line. You know what it was by the conversation on your side. You have not heard it, but you just know. There is no doubt. With that in mind, this is a story that holds out the hope and joy of Christmas. It should be shared aloud while you are snuggled under something soft and comfy with someone you love, with a mug of something hot and sweet close at hand. If there are snowflakes falling past the streetlights, then that will be all the better.
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Helping a youth organization in the capacity of a leader, I was caught by the latest riddle of the day. "How many reindeer are there?" I am supposed to be teaching them, so I had better get this right. "Well, there were the eight tiny reindeer and Rudolph, so nine," I explained. With cheer in their hearts and the knowledge that they had me beat, they all roared, "Wrong, ten!" Not one to give up, I just dug in deeper. "Oh yeah, name them?" They did, followed by-and bless their little hearts-singing, they informed me, "OLIVE! Olive, the other reindeer . . ." I didn't even see it coming. Did I mention I am not one to give up? "Well, then, isn't there eleven 'As they shouted out with Glee'"? I didn't know who Glee was, but she seemed to me to be a bit of a cheerleader and supporter of Rudolph. That moment, and a lot of time since, has given me the answer of who Glee is. I'm not one to give up. Writing under a pseudonym, our author believes that he is more of a storyteller than a writer. Working at night in the deep woods of the Pacific North Coast, his imagination never stops. This causes him both amusement and concern. Learning to let the stories flow and take them where they will whenever the muse is upon him, he is often inspired most when telling stories over the telephone. He doesn't know why. The simple request to "tell me a story" will usually work its way back to a joke or nursery rhyme that are part of our common culture. The return to the land we were all familiar with in our childhood from some new adventure, he finds, is part of this story's charm. I find this odd to be writing about myself, and that it is so much easier to do as a third party is a little concerning. Asking the lady who is the love of my life if this sounds like me, her quick comment was "Pretty much, in a nutshell." So here we are. You, the reader, and me, the storyteller, bravely going off on an adventure that I hope you find will free your imagination again, or if it always has roamed free, maybe we will find new directions to go.
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