Snow Bunny and I have left you a personal Christmas message, and you can see and hear it by clicking on the little house below. There is a short wave file; please let it load fully, and then click on the little *on* arrow at the left on the dial below our photo. Hope you have a wonderful day today, and don't forget to send me your pet's picture by Sunday so I can make a Christmas picture.

There is a Santa Claus....... I remember my first Christmas party with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!" My grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her world-famous cinnamon buns. Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus," she snorted. "Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad. Now, put on your coat, and let's go." "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's. I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out for recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough, and he didn't have a coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat. I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked really warm, and he would like that. "Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes," I replied shyly. "It's ... for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag and wished me a Merry Christmas. That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat in Christmas paper and ribbons, and write, "To Bobby, From Santa Clause" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially one of Santa's helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus,"; she whispered, "Get!" I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his doorbell and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby. Forty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team. You see, there IS a Santa Claus. ~~ author unknown

Of course, the original Nicholas was a servant of Christ Jesus - doing just this kind of anonymous giving. We should all be a Saint Nick!

Good morning, annie! You're the first one here this morning - beginning to wonder if anyone wanted coffee or not! Regular or decaf? Wish someone would bring the cinnamon rolls (after reading that story again, they really sound good!)

U) U) U) U) U) U) U) U) U) U) U)

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Cinnamon buns and coffee all around!

You see, there IS a Santa Claus.

Ahhhhh, my first cup of coffee and You see, there IS a Santa Claus. !!!!!!!!!!!!

off to work . . . . it's gonna be a grrrrrreat day, Billie

Wooooo Hoooooooo!
Here's a great picture of one of our U. S. Special Forces commandos riding through Kandahar:

CHECK OUT THE BUMPER STICKER!!!!

Gotta run...Mom's got a doctor appointment. Let me just snatch one of those doughnuts...mmmmmm. See y'all in a little while!

YUMMY!

Hi everyone!

This is Pray4USA writing to ya'll on behalf of 4TheFlag ~

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Billie, Snow & Tonk ~ Billie, I guess you were right - stick a fork in it...'cuz it's DONE!!!

I guess my monitor got so overheated during the FLAME JOB on the draft thread, with Paul Jesup, that it literally caught FIRE! … (((LOL)))

Iowa Granny & Timeout ~ I need to pass on the B-Team duties for Breakfast to you Time, until IG can get back - thinkin' that'll be Saturday.....K?

All ~ Hopefully I will get a new monitor soon...if not.....I wish ALL of you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

If there is anything urgent, contact Pray4USA… and she can relay the message to me.

Until then - I will miss all of you!

Jack

Thanks for the cinnamon rolls! :^) That aroma will bring 'em in!

Good morning, Phil! I hope you DO have a great day! Thanks for coming by on your way to work. Don't spill your coffee! And be a Santa's Helper - drop a few coins in the Salvation Army pot today. :^)

Thanks for running in, Timeout - see you later today when you have more time. (Love the bumper sticker - saw it on last night's post, too!)

'Morning, runningbear. Good to see you here again!

Thanks for posting 4's message to us, Pray. I know how frustrating it is for him, because he enjoys FR and the Canteen so much. I hope it won't be long - maybe a new monitor for Christmas is in order. And maybe make it an EARLY Christmas present!

Mmmm, cinnamon rolls! Hope no one minds I've brought some cranberry-orange muffins, too.

Great story. Thanks Billie!

A tribute to the Military Nurse

I Will Always Remember You
Written by Gini Stern

You were born in California,
New York, and Tennesse.
You are every genterations hope,
Of all that we can be.

All this land between the oceans,
Is that home that you defend.
You're my Mother, you're my Daughter
My Sister, My Friend.

No one ever had to ask you,
It seemed you always knew.
Standing up for what is right
Is all that you could do.

Not one to look the other way
You choose to serve with pride,
And dare to cross the boundaries
Knowing God was on your side.

And I will always remember you
For you remembered me.

Always there when I needed you,
Always there protecting my freedom.
How could I ever forget you
You, who always came through.
For duty, honor, country
I will always remember you.

How you taught us strength and courage
And the will to never fail,
And that through our every conflict
Somehow triumph would prevail.

You made your peace with history
And stand among the brave,
No more the unsung hero
For you our banners wave.

And I will always remember you
for you remembered me.
Always there when I needed you,
Always there protecting my freedom.
How could I ever forget you
You, who always came through.
For duty, honor, and country
I will always remember you.

One of the better emails I received this week.(Yes Ladies, I clean it up a schoch)

So you want to be in the military now?!?! Now I know that the current affairs of our great nation have many of you civilians up in arms and excited to join my military. Even though your intentions are well, and you might very possibly make it into the service, there are some things that we need to clear up/get straight first before we even consider you.

1) Next time you see someone (an adult) talking during the playing/singing of the National Anthem.....kick their butt .

2) When you witness firsthand someone burning my American Flag in protest...kick their butt . If you see this on television, as many of us have, you are simply required to have a deep burning suddenly arise inside of you....then go and kick their butt . Our Fore-Fathers didn't intend freedom of speech to be the "get out of jail free" card for an act of a traitor.

3) Regardless of the rank they maintained while they served, pay the highest amount of respect to all Veterans. If you see anyone doing otherwise, quietly pull them aside and explain how these Veterans fought for the very freedom they bask in every second. Enlighten them on the many sacrifices these Veterans made to make this Nation great. Then hold them down while the Veteran kicks their butt .

4) If you are not in the military, DO NOT pretend that you are. Wearing battle dress uniforms (BDU's), telling others that you used to be "Special Forces", and collecting GI.Joe memorabilia might have been ok if you were still seven, but now it will only get your butt kicked. (Veterans are exempt from this rule)

5) If you witness someone calling an enlisted Marine "Sir", stand back.....the Marine will kick their butt .

6)Next time you come across an Air Force member, do not ask them "Do you fly a jet?". You are ignorant if you ask this. A Marine will be called to kick your butt . (children are exempt)

7) Roseanne Bar's singing of the National Anthem is not a blooper....it was a disgrace and disrespectful. Laugh and sooner or later, your butt will be kicked.

8) Next time Old Glory prances by during a parade, get on your damn feet and pay homage to her and the military member or Veteran lucky enough to carry her. Your stupid funnel cake will forgive you if you stand for 5 minutes with your hand over your heart. You might as well be throwing the funnel cake at the flag if you don't stand.....of course, either will earn you a severe butt kicking.

9) What Jane Fonda did about Vietnam makes her the enemy....hate her or else. ( butt will be kicked)

10) Don't try to discuss politics to a military member. We might vote as separate parties, but that doesn't mean we don't all bleed the same. We are, simply put, Americans. Our military Chain of Command, to include our Commander in Chief...the President... (for those who didn't know) is all that we acknowledge. We have no inside track on what happens inside those big important buildings where all those representatives" meet. The military member might direct you to Oliver North. I can see him kicking your butt already.

11) "Your mama wears combat boots" never made sense to me....stop saying it! If she did, she would most likely kick you in the butt with them!

12) Bin Laden and the Taliban are not communists. So stop saying, "Let's go kill those Kami's!!!" And stop asking us where he is!!!! Crystal balls are not standard issue in the military. That reminds me......if you see anyone calling those damn psychic phone numbers, let me know, so I can kick their butt.

13) Last but not least, whether or not you become a member of my military, support our troops and their families. Every Thanksgiving and Christmas that you enjoy with family and friends, there are thousands of troops overseas longing for just a taste of homemade pumpkin pie or fresh egg-nog and turkey. Wanting for just one hug on a Christmas morning from a loved one. Thank God for our military and the sacrifices they are making every day. Without them, our country would get its butt kicked.

-SSgt. Jamie (Jed) Nichols

Now, I guess I can put down a good cup of coffee and a sweet roll. Thank you for the USO Canteen!

'Morning, mountaineer - I'll have one of those, too!

Fresh cinnamon rolls and coffee. That's my kind of breakfast. Thanks annie and Billie. Nothing like the aroma of fresh baked goods in the morning.