The Reindeer Keeper

I've told you about my grandmother Giddy's molasses cookies so big that they took two little hands to hold and her traditional Christmas bread that remains a tradition and brown donuts that melted in your mouth. Her breakfasts were just as special. Whether they were enjoyed in that huge farmhouse kitchen surrounded by wainscoting or some years later in the smaller home she and Grampie and my aunt Claire moved to within view of that homestead, breakfasts at Giddy's surpassed any IHop anywhere. For some reason Sunday breakfast seemed extra special.I think it was because we took extra time to enjoy each other around the pine table with its drop-in leaf. My Aunt Claire always sat in the same place. She kept her things in the same spot-like pills, pencils, a small pad of paper, maybe a stray button or piece of candy. On the window sill beside her sat trinkets she'd received from her nieces and nephews. Usually a candle was in the mix. If my cousin Carol and I had stayed th

I remember when I was in grade school how my stomach would be tied in knots when trying to decide which valentine would go to which classmate. Those knots became even tighter when it came to choosing a valentine for a boy. It couldn't say too much. "Be My Valentine" was a no-no. "Be My Friend" was a bit nervy. Making folders that would hold the valentines we'd be receiving from classmates was not quite so nerve racking. Rather, it was fun folding the construction paper; then very lightly drawing half-hearts on the fold. After cutting the shapes, we'd open the paper to discover perfectly shaped hearts. When everyone in the class was finished, our teacher would pass out fancy doilies. We'd take turns using some of the white sticky paste scooped out from a plastic gallon container sitting in the middle of her desk. Wiping some of the goo on the backs of our cut-out hearts we'd then stick them onto the doilies. I remember thinking they were breatht

Getting ready for Valentine's Day was especially fun in our chicken coop clubhouse. Despite the snow sneaking in through the cracks we were so busy it never really bothered us. We'd swipe it off the desks; push it aside with our boots and play-honest to goodness, pure imagination full-steam ahead play as we made valentine cards and valentine chains kept together by a pastey sort of glue made ahead of time by mixing flour and water. Valentine decorations were created and put in the windows which were allowing the snow inside. We'd instruct our two rows of pretend students to follow us as we drew designs on the chalkboard; then drew them on paper much of which had become wet by the snow and then cut them out with an old pair of scissors our grandmother gave us. We helped our pretend students make cards to take to their pretend families living in pretend homes nearby. Each student had a name taped to their desk. Of course, as is usually the case, we had our favorites! Those

Now that January has given way to February with its chocolate hearts and paper hearts and hearts on socks and hearts on cards and hearts on sleeves declaring love forever-I have finally put most of Christmas back into boxes and drawers and wherever else I can stuff it. Out near the barn there remains a string of solar-powered Christmas lights strung around a massive bush of some sort sitting by itself in the field. When it's been a bright, sunny winter's day those lights of red and green and blue illuminate winter's night. Looking out the back window when the dark sky's a bed of silver stars and the moon's but a sliver those dancing lights in the massive bush spread wonder and warmth out across the giant snowdrifts and into the hearts of anyone passing by. That alone justifies leaving them up. After all, it is the month of hearts and I'll keep them up until the month of hearts lends itself to the month of shamrocks.