Nothing specific. For us – like many – Christmas is a time for reflection and time with family. It is the simple things that are the best things.
To all at TBP have a safe and merry Christmas!
Sincerely,
The Marions
suzanna
December 24, 2015 10:38 am
Last year actually. My husband had a really bad cold and did not come up
to share Christmas with me. I have a small fake tree (top of a big one)
placed in cement in a bucket. I loaded it with lights and all of my smaller
ornaments…including my boys’ kindergarten efforts. It sat on a table,
(German style) in front of the window. I had gone all out baking cookies
every other night for weeks and they were in pretty tins. I delivered tins
filled to the max with beautiful cookies to some of my neighbors. Dog
“helped” me bake and taste test…we both gained a pound or two.
On Christmas day, we, me and canine lounged and I read a brand new
book. Fire in the wood stove, and not a care in the world. My family
came up the following weekend, and they got their tin of cookies.
Also, a big travel l bag to be used for bug out X 3 in all. Mail order.
Thaisleeze
December 24, 2015 11:22 am
20 years ago, Great Barrier reef, diving at dawn from a live aboard scuba boat and seeing all the nocturnal creatures, lobster, octopus etc returning to home for the day. Followed by a shark feeding dive after lunch. Awesome day, and thanks to the diving managed to stay sober until dusk!
polecat
December 24, 2015 11:40 am
the new year!
bb
December 24, 2015 12:09 pm
The first year ( 2010) when I really realized what Christmas is about.A Charlie Brown Christmas explains it pretty good. Family , Traditions , Culture is all good but that’s not the true meaning of Christmas
I’m taking today and tomorrow off from my FedEx contractor business . I will celebrate Christmas in a hotel in Cheyenne Wyoming .From myself and little bb to everyone at the Burning Platform have a Merry Christmas and a Wonderful NEW Year .bb
Gayle
December 24, 2015 12:29 pm
When I was a girl, one Christmas especially needed to be white. Christmas Eve day was sunny and cold. My family attended midnight church service, and as we were walking in at 11:00, I looked to the sky one last time, hoping for a storm cloud. Nothing to be seen but millions of twinkling stars. “Maybe next year,” I thought.
When we emerged from church an hour later, what to my wondering eyes should appear but beautiful flakes falling all around. It was pure magic. I have had many wonderful Christmases, but that one will always be the best.
May you all have a blessed and joyful day tomorrow.
Anon
December 24, 2015 12:51 pm
I read that question very quickly as “what is your favorite conspiracy theory”? Fits though.
Maggie
December 24, 2015 1:53 pm
A picture is worth a thousand words:
[img[/img]
One year later:
[img[/img]
[img[/img]
One year later:
[img[/img]
I could go on, but I think you get the picture.
jm
December 24, 2015 1:55 pm
One of my most treasured Christmas memories is my third-grade teacher, Mrs. Whitfield, reading us the Christmas story from the Bible. Also, she gave each of us a tiny Nativity scene. Those were the days.
Maggie
December 24, 2015 1:57 pm
Just because I came across this in my Photobucket Christmas album and am sure several TBPers have the perfect person to send this to.
[img[/img]
robert h siddell jr
December 24, 2015 3:04 pm
It is the best Holiday: the Goodness Spirit, the really great music and lights, friends and food; the Blessed Hope: For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counseller, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.
Lysander
December 24, 2015 3:11 pm
Merry Christmas to you all TBP’ers! And especially to you bb, because I spent many a Christmas on the road and made the best of it. Are you staying at that big motel/restaurant/bar complex there in Cheyanne? I stayed there several times and always had a good time at the bar.
My best Christmas was every one I spent with friends and/or family, and especially with new friends on the road.
IndenturedServant
December 24, 2015 3:40 pm
In hindsight I realize just how idyllic my childhood was which reflects just how great my parents were. Although we always had everything we needed, money was always tight but mom really knew how to put on a Christmas! My father had a knack for making/modifying second hand gifts. One of my most treasured is an old rock hammer.
While living in MT I developed a strong interest in geology. One day dad and I were combing through the cliffs across from the old Anaconda smoke stack in Great Falls, MT, high above the Missouri River. We had located a pocket of petrified wood that either needed a little more time in the oven or it had begun to degrade due to exposure. I later learned that the petrified wood was mildly radioactive and that was probably the reason. At any rate is was covered in perfectly formed, clear pea sized quartz crystals. While I was busy trying to excavate some samples my dad found an old rock hammer that was thoroughly unimpressive to me. It was rusty and the handle had completely rotted away except for the metal spine. In other words the hammer was sound but needed a handle.
I gave the hammer no more thought as I gathered rocks for my collection. For Christmas that year dad had cut oval rings of different colored boot leather, fashioned a tear drop shaped stop for the top of the handle out of stainless steel and a brass counterweight to compress/secure the stack of leather rings and to perfectly balance the hammer to prevent fatigue. He also made a holster for it to carry on my belt. I love that old hammer and it still goes into the wild with me whenever I do. All these years later the leather is still tight and the balance of the thing always amazes me.
Anywho, looking back on it Christmas was always great in my eyes. More often than not the house was filled with young G.I.’s that could not make it back to their own homes for Christmas. However the Christmases that stand out the most were the years we were in transit between bases during Christmas. We were essentially homeless living out of suitcases in temporary living quarters. Mom hated the govt for doing this to us during the holidays but us kids didn’t really care. It was either the end of one adventure or the beginning of another.
During one such Christmas we had a single pine branch for a Christmas tree with tiny little ornaments we made out of paper, tape and glue. It was fuglier than a Charlie Brown Christmas tree but it did it’s job and made for a great memory.
I’d have to say ALL my childhood Christmases are my favorite Christmas memories.
The hammer looks exactly like this minus the blue handle and shiny surface. It may very well be an Estwing but the steel is not marked:
[img[/img]
The handle looks a lot like this but better with a brass counterweight at the bottom:
[img[/img]
EL Coyote
December 24, 2015 5:51 pm
We took a little walk from our school to the local firehouse. They had set up a trampoline there and we watched the most impressive trampoline act our little lives could imagine. Then, they gave us each a mesh stocking full of candy. Nothing beats your first taste of Christmas candy. Nothing. Ok, pizza.
Archie
December 24, 2015 6:27 pm
It’s not a specific memory necessarily. I think about my father on Christmas. He was an extremely gregarious and funny man. He loved Christmas. He would wear old timey outfits and top hats or bowler hats, suit vests, stopwatches, etc. items he had inherited from his father and grandfather, and couldn’t wait for the Christmas Eve feast at his sister’s house, and then his mother’s house on Christmas Day to show all that off. I think the man yearned to live in the past. I can’t blame him. Me too.
Anyway, one Christmas Eve, it was announced that the evening’s feast would be meat free on account of my stupid cousin’s new found vegetarianism. Instead of a rib roast and Yorkshire pudding, we’d have veggie lasagna. At first, there were grumblings. Look, WASPS don’t show anger, only in private. Or any other emotion for that matter. We are hardly human in this way. But if you want to piss off WASPS, serve them veggie lasagna on Christmas Eve. The grumblings soon gave way to open revolt. My great uncle declared “this is outrageous!” slamming his napkin on the table. I think my father mumbled something like “bullshit”. He shot out of his chair and went into the kitchen, and we could hear a kind of verbal scuffle between him and his sister.
I think we ended up having leg of lamb, but I can’t remember. And my stupid liberal cousin, who is now a lawyer, had her lasagne.
Anyway, afterwards, we played a word game called hobbledly hoy, or something like that. To play, an obscure English word was offered. In this particular case it was “hink”. Participants had to write down what they thought the definition was. All those and the real definition were collected and read out. Then you’d vote on which one you thought was the real one. A point system followed. Well, my father wrote, “Chinese verb, as in ‘you hink you hot stuff mister’.” My great aunt May laughed her ass off. I miss her the most. She was my favorite relative outside of the immediate family. What a great woman.
Years later, after my parents got divorced, my father holed up in a small house in newtown square. His answering machine featured a “Cato” of sorts, mirroring the character in the pink panther series. You called and got the following message, “mr. Archie not here. I do his raundrey. Call back.” Or something similar. My father would have been arrested today for such antics in today’s amurrica.
Merry Christmas dad. Rest soundly. And a hearty merry Christmas to the TBP dysfunctional family!
javelin
December 24, 2015 10:53 pm
My family growing up was scarce on funds but long on tradition. Of course I did not realize we were lower-middle class at the best of times because the whole neighborhood and my friends skimped along.
Hand me down clothes and hand me down toys and sports equipment were the norm and I was as excited as any millennial with a new I-phone when I got an old baseball glove or football with a little skin left on it.
Christmas Eve we had this old tradition-I guess my dad had brought it from his youth living in a household with 7 brothers and 1 sister ( worked out well for my granddad who had a dairy farm with 100+ cows.)
Anyhow, each Christmas Eve my dad would read the original, Biblical Christmas story from the book of Luke. When he reached the part of “unto us a child is born, unto us a savior is given” the youngest sibling got to finally place the baby Jesus in the nativity scene under the tree. We always withheld the baby from the ceramic figurine scene until that night when my dad read the story.
I have lots of other memories of special gifts and loved ones but that was always Christmas to me.
Thank you for the assist in helping me to spend a few moments in quiet reflection as I typed this.
Anonymous
December 24, 2015 11:06 pm
Probably the first year we went from candles to electric lights on out tree.
Nothing specific. For us – like many – Christmas is a time for reflection and time with family. It is the simple things that are the best things.
To all at TBP have a safe and merry Christmas!
Sincerely,
The Marions
Last year actually. My husband had a really bad cold and did not come up
to share Christmas with me. I have a small fake tree (top of a big one)
placed in cement in a bucket. I loaded it with lights and all of my smaller
ornaments…including my boys’ kindergarten efforts. It sat on a table,
(German style) in front of the window. I had gone all out baking cookies
every other night for weeks and they were in pretty tins. I delivered tins
filled to the max with beautiful cookies to some of my neighbors. Dog
“helped” me bake and taste test…we both gained a pound or two.
On Christmas day, we, me and canine lounged and I read a brand new
book. Fire in the wood stove, and not a care in the world. My family
came up the following weekend, and they got their tin of cookies.
Also, a big travel l bag to be used for bug out X 3 in all. Mail order.
20 years ago, Great Barrier reef, diving at dawn from a live aboard scuba boat and seeing all the nocturnal creatures, lobster, octopus etc returning to home for the day. Followed by a shark feeding dive after lunch. Awesome day, and thanks to the diving managed to stay sober until dusk!
the new year!
The first year ( 2010) when I really realized what Christmas is about.A Charlie Brown Christmas explains it pretty good. Family , Traditions , Culture is all good but that’s not the true meaning of Christmas
I’m taking today and tomorrow off from my FedEx contractor business . I will celebrate Christmas in a hotel in Cheyenne Wyoming .From myself and little bb to everyone at the Burning Platform have a Merry Christmas and a Wonderful NEW Year .bb
When I was a girl, one Christmas especially needed to be white. Christmas Eve day was sunny and cold. My family attended midnight church service, and as we were walking in at 11:00, I looked to the sky one last time, hoping for a storm cloud. Nothing to be seen but millions of twinkling stars. “Maybe next year,” I thought.
When we emerged from church an hour later, what to my wondering eyes should appear but beautiful flakes falling all around. It was pure magic. I have had many wonderful Christmases, but that one will always be the best.
May you all have a blessed and joyful day tomorrow.
I read that question very quickly as “what is your favorite conspiracy theory”? Fits though.
A picture is worth a thousand words:
[/img]
[img
One year later:
[/img]
[/img]
[img
[img
One year later:
[/img]
[img
I could go on, but I think you get the picture.
One of my most treasured Christmas memories is my third-grade teacher, Mrs. Whitfield, reading us the Christmas story from the Bible. Also, she gave each of us a tiny Nativity scene. Those were the days.
Just because I came across this in my Photobucket Christmas album and am sure several TBPers have the perfect person to send this to.
[img
[/img]
It is the best Holiday: the Goodness Spirit, the really great music and lights, friends and food; the Blessed Hope: For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counseller, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.
Merry Christmas to you all TBP’ers! And especially to you bb, because I spent many a Christmas on the road and made the best of it. Are you staying at that big motel/restaurant/bar complex there in Cheyanne? I stayed there several times and always had a good time at the bar.
My best Christmas was every one I spent with friends and/or family, and especially with new friends on the road.
In hindsight I realize just how idyllic my childhood was which reflects just how great my parents were. Although we always had everything we needed, money was always tight but mom really knew how to put on a Christmas! My father had a knack for making/modifying second hand gifts. One of my most treasured is an old rock hammer.
While living in MT I developed a strong interest in geology. One day dad and I were combing through the cliffs across from the old Anaconda smoke stack in Great Falls, MT, high above the Missouri River. We had located a pocket of petrified wood that either needed a little more time in the oven or it had begun to degrade due to exposure. I later learned that the petrified wood was mildly radioactive and that was probably the reason. At any rate is was covered in perfectly formed, clear pea sized quartz crystals. While I was busy trying to excavate some samples my dad found an old rock hammer that was thoroughly unimpressive to me. It was rusty and the handle had completely rotted away except for the metal spine. In other words the hammer was sound but needed a handle.
I gave the hammer no more thought as I gathered rocks for my collection. For Christmas that year dad had cut oval rings of different colored boot leather, fashioned a tear drop shaped stop for the top of the handle out of stainless steel and a brass counterweight to compress/secure the stack of leather rings and to perfectly balance the hammer to prevent fatigue. He also made a holster for it to carry on my belt. I love that old hammer and it still goes into the wild with me whenever I do. All these years later the leather is still tight and the balance of the thing always amazes me.
Anywho, looking back on it Christmas was always great in my eyes. More often than not the house was filled with young G.I.’s that could not make it back to their own homes for Christmas. However the Christmases that stand out the most were the years we were in transit between bases during Christmas. We were essentially homeless living out of suitcases in temporary living quarters. Mom hated the govt for doing this to us during the holidays but us kids didn’t really care. It was either the end of one adventure or the beginning of another.
During one such Christmas we had a single pine branch for a Christmas tree with tiny little ornaments we made out of paper, tape and glue. It was fuglier than a Charlie Brown Christmas tree but it did it’s job and made for a great memory.
I’d have to say ALL my childhood Christmases are my favorite Christmas memories.
The hammer looks exactly like this minus the blue handle and shiny surface. It may very well be an Estwing but the steel is not marked:
[img
[/img]
The handle looks a lot like this but better with a brass counterweight at the bottom:
[img
[/img]
We took a little walk from our school to the local firehouse. They had set up a trampoline there and we watched the most impressive trampoline act our little lives could imagine. Then, they gave us each a mesh stocking full of candy. Nothing beats your first taste of Christmas candy. Nothing. Ok, pizza.
It’s not a specific memory necessarily. I think about my father on Christmas. He was an extremely gregarious and funny man. He loved Christmas. He would wear old timey outfits and top hats or bowler hats, suit vests, stopwatches, etc. items he had inherited from his father and grandfather, and couldn’t wait for the Christmas Eve feast at his sister’s house, and then his mother’s house on Christmas Day to show all that off. I think the man yearned to live in the past. I can’t blame him. Me too.
Anyway, one Christmas Eve, it was announced that the evening’s feast would be meat free on account of my stupid cousin’s new found vegetarianism. Instead of a rib roast and Yorkshire pudding, we’d have veggie lasagna. At first, there were grumblings. Look, WASPS don’t show anger, only in private. Or any other emotion for that matter. We are hardly human in this way. But if you want to piss off WASPS, serve them veggie lasagna on Christmas Eve. The grumblings soon gave way to open revolt. My great uncle declared “this is outrageous!” slamming his napkin on the table. I think my father mumbled something like “bullshit”. He shot out of his chair and went into the kitchen, and we could hear a kind of verbal scuffle between him and his sister.
I think we ended up having leg of lamb, but I can’t remember. And my stupid liberal cousin, who is now a lawyer, had her lasagne.
Anyway, afterwards, we played a word game called hobbledly hoy, or something like that. To play, an obscure English word was offered. In this particular case it was “hink”. Participants had to write down what they thought the definition was. All those and the real definition were collected and read out. Then you’d vote on which one you thought was the real one. A point system followed. Well, my father wrote, “Chinese verb, as in ‘you hink you hot stuff mister’.” My great aunt May laughed her ass off. I miss her the most. She was my favorite relative outside of the immediate family. What a great woman.
Years later, after my parents got divorced, my father holed up in a small house in newtown square. His answering machine featured a “Cato” of sorts, mirroring the character in the pink panther series. You called and got the following message, “mr. Archie not here. I do his raundrey. Call back.” Or something similar. My father would have been arrested today for such antics in today’s amurrica.
Merry Christmas dad. Rest soundly. And a hearty merry Christmas to the TBP dysfunctional family!
My family growing up was scarce on funds but long on tradition. Of course I did not realize we were lower-middle class at the best of times because the whole neighborhood and my friends skimped along.
Hand me down clothes and hand me down toys and sports equipment were the norm and I was as excited as any millennial with a new I-phone when I got an old baseball glove or football with a little skin left on it.
Christmas Eve we had this old tradition-I guess my dad had brought it from his youth living in a household with 7 brothers and 1 sister ( worked out well for my granddad who had a dairy farm with 100+ cows.)
Anyhow, each Christmas Eve my dad would read the original, Biblical Christmas story from the book of Luke. When he reached the part of “unto us a child is born, unto us a savior is given” the youngest sibling got to finally place the baby Jesus in the nativity scene under the tree. We always withheld the baby from the ceramic figurine scene until that night when my dad read the story.
I have lots of other memories of special gifts and loved ones but that was always Christmas to me.
Thank you for the assist in helping me to spend a few moments in quiet reflection as I typed this.
Probably the first year we went from candles to electric lights on out tree.