“Verity - the quality or state of being true or real; Balderdash – nonsense.”
Miriam-Webster Online Dictionary

Verities & Balderdash...
Five short Holiday Season ditties
Edited by Bob Robinson  
December 21, 2011 

An “apple” for the teacher... 

On the last day of school before the Christmas break, the children brought gifts for their teacher. 

The supermarket manager’s daughter brought the teacher a beautiful basket of  assorted fruit.  The florist’s son brought the teacher a bouquet of flowers. The candy-store owner’s daughter gave the teacher a huge, pretty box of assorted candy. 

Then the liquor-store owner’s son brought up a big, heavy box. The teacher lifted it up and noticed that it was leaking a little bit.. She touched a drop of the liquid with her finger and tasted it. 

“Is it wine?” she guessed. 

“No,” the boy replied. 

She tasted another drop and asked, “ Champagne ?” 

“No,” said the little boy.............”It’s a puppy!” 

My first hunting foray... 

Shot my first turkey yesterday, scared the living heck out of everyone in the frozen food section. It was awesome! 

Gettin’ old is so much fun.... 

How They Forecast a Cold Winter... 

One day in early September the chief of a Native American tribe was asked by his tribal elders if the winter of 2011/12 was going to be cold or mild.  The chief asked his medicine man, but he too had lost touch with the reading signs from the natural world around the Great Lakes. 

In truth, neither of them had idea about how to predict the coming winter.  However, the chief decided to take a modern approach, and the chief rang the National Weather Service in Gaylord Michigan. 

‘Yes, it is going to be a cold winter,’ the meteorological officer told the chief.  Consequently, he went back to his tribe and told the men to collect plenty of firewood. 

A fortnight later the chief called the Weather Service and asked for an update. ‘Are you still forecasting a cold winter?’ he asked. 

‘Yes, very cold’, the weather officer told him. 

As a result of this brief conversation the chief went back to the tribe and told his people to collect every bit of wood they could find. 

A month later the chief called the National Weather Service once more and asked about the coming winter. ‘Yes,’ he was told, ‘it is going to be one of the coldest winters ever.’ 

‘How can you be so sure?’ the chief asked. 

The weatherman replied: ‘Because the Native Americans of the Great Lakes are collecting wood like crazy.’ 

And he votes...

 
George Gibbs, from Columbus, Ohio, suffered second-degree burns on his head.  This is what happened one freezing cold winter morning.  Unable to start his car, George diagnosed the problem as a frozen fuel line which he thought he could correct by running warm petrol through it.  He then tried to heat a two-gallon can of petrol on his gas stove in the kitchen.  Uhh... you can guess the rest. 

Finally... A delightful short, funny, and compassionate Christmas story from Carol Stigger... 

Heaven and Angels Sing 

At the Christmas Eve church service, I sat with my two boisterous grandchildren, ages three and five. Their parents sat in front of the church to present a nativity reading titled “Silent Night.” They had warned the children to behave. I had warned the children to behave. With scrubbed angelic faces and Christmas wonder in their eyes, they looked like model children posing for a magazine holiday spread. I indulged myself in a few moments of pride. 

Alec pinched Aubrey. I was grateful that the organ thundered into the first hymn just then, drowning out her yelp. I grabbed her hand before she could return the pinch. During the Lord’s Prayer, Aubrey shredded the program I had given her to color on. The crayons had already rolled under the pew. I watched bits of paper fall on the carpet like snow. I would help her pick it up later, but for now the naughtiness I was allowing kept her occupied and her brother quietly admiring. 

We were enjoying an uneasy truce when their parents stood to deliver the reading. 

“Mommy!” Alec yelled. 

She frowned, and he sat back in his seat. 

“Silence,” my son said to the congregation. “Think for a moment what that word means to you.” 

My daughter-in-law signed his words. Earlier that year, she began to use her new signing skills for the benefit of the few hearing-impaired members of our church. 

Alec said a naughty word, thankfully too low for many to hear. I scowled at him, shaking my finger and my head. Aubrey grinned. Then she proclaimed, every syllable enunciated perfectly, in a clear voice that carried to far corners of the sanctuary, “Alec is a potty mouth!” 

Everyone stared. I was too stunned to speak. My son and his wife looked at each other. But instead of anger, I saw surprise. 

My son set aside his script and told another story. He told about their daughter being born profoundly deaf. He talked about four years of hearing aids and speech therapy with no guarantee she would ever learn to speak plainly. He talked about the rugged faith that kept the family praying she would have a normal life. 

He said Aubrey’s outburst was an answer to prayer: the first perfectly enunciated sentence she had ever spoken. 

From the back of the room, a lone voice sang the last line of a beloved Christmas Carol: Hark! The herald angels sing, Glory to the newborn king. 

While the congregation sang four verses of the unscheduled hymn, my two little angels wiggled in their parents’ arms, adding laughter and giggles to the joyful Christmas noise. 

Merry Christmas everyone! Have a safe and happy New Year!