"Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas"

Merry Christmas from A Nice Place In The Sun.

(And, of course from Dr. Seuss.) Because I have a feeling if he were here, he would be grateful for an opportunity to put a smile on a child's face, just one more time.

'How The Grinch Stole Christmas', is a Christmas treasure that will be around for many generations. The story's fabulous assortment of characters was one of the first children books written in the twentieth century that shared the elements of of all well written stories, whether written for adults or children.

In fact, he is one of the reasons I am glad to have older siblings- ;) Otherwise, by the time I learned to read, I would have had to endure phrases like, "Run Jip Run!" well, perhaps that's not fair, those books were fine, I suppose- I'm sorry, Spot, or Jip or both...(Oh, and now I have a feeling I forgot someone else~)

Anyway, I remember some of the excitement surrounding Dr. Seuss' books; For teachers, parents, and children, it was like hearing the drops of fresh water pelt against dry dirt after a long drought.

Dr. Seuss' talent was a blessing we weren't expecting, and before we knew it, we were in love with his array of characters, (because he made us believe they were real,) regardless of their wacky appearances and tick-tock-sock-rock neurotic personalities, we loved every thing about them, and when you love a character, you're naturally drawn into their lives.

Dr. Seuss was an expert at hiding the "good stuff" behind metaphor, hence, as a result, he taught us so much about children, and children so much about life and themselves. In short, Dr. Seuss' place on this earth will forever be the Christmas gift that keeps giving...So, it seemed befitting to tell him Merry Christmas again, so Merry Christmas Dr. Seuss, Random House, my parents, and my teachers.

In addition, Merry Christmas to you, my readers and all of our children~ Have a great Christmas day!


Cowboy Curtains

Recently, I awoke with tears in my eyes.

It was an early morning in December, hence, I dreaded the freezing temperatures, as well as, resting my feet upon a cold floor.

In addition, I felt a heavy sadness, a feeling I 'd felt before- this was not my first wagon ride-

I kept my eyes \closed, and dreamed of the honeysuckle vines in grandmothers yard, her dusty back porch, the clothesline, and the talkative morning birds.

I remember feeling secure and joyful in my grandmothers home, and although the wooden floors frightened me when they creaked, the old cedar house invited a familiar sense of belonging and joy-

When my brother's and I spent the night with Nana (my grandmother,) we could smell bacon popping in a pan, homemade grape jam on toast, and the loudest birds I will ever hear again, the next morning. I remember wondering how birds understood each other, since they all chirped at once while searching for food in the morning dew.

I still wonder what birds gossip about...but, they chirp so fast, that even if we were fluent in their language, their conversations would be impossible to follow.

Then, my mind drifted back into the present, and I laughed to myself, thinking about childhood- However, I quickly caught myself, and forced my mind to close the silent door on the present, in order to drink in the bittersweet moments of yesteryear.

My grandmother lived into my adulthood, becoming one of my closest friends, as well as a positive influence in my child's life. Thinking of this, I kept my eyes closed and remembered Nana laughing at my son's Golden Retriever, Wendy, as she chased squirrels high into the treetops, watching them jump from tree limb to tree limb, until she reached the point of exhaustion.

However, what Wendy considered rest was sitting on a tree's trunk barking toward the sky, her eyes fixed on a squirrels tail dangling on a tree limb, hoping a squirrel would lose its balance and fall. I thought of Nana's laugh again, but suppressed the memory...and I'm not sure why-

I longed to be nine years old again, and squeezed my eyes together willing what has passed me by to remain clear in my mind. Then, the sounds of the world waking up interrupted my trance, and I knew I would have to open my eyes sometime.

As a matter of fact, I knew that "sometime" was around the corner, because I had to wipe the tears that were sliding down my cheeks like rainwater. Why was I crying?- It was a surprise I decided to brush off and rationalize as tired, confused, lost, or "just one of those days."

I lay in bed feeling like I was awaiting an unwelcome visitor- Nevertheless, I told myself I was strong and thought of good things until I felt better.

After all, it was an early morning in December, one of my favorite seasons-
So, I shrugged off the feeling and decided to focus on secure moments and new beginnings before I met the day.

I wanted to be a nine year old again, hence, squeezed my eyes together tight, willing the past to remain clear in my mind. Then, the sounds of an awakening world interrupted my trance, and I knew a new moment was on its way, and I would have to face the day soon.

As a matter of fact, I knew the moment I dreaded was around the corner, because at some point, I had to wipe the tears that rolled down my face like rainwater. I could not understand why was I crying, but it was a surprise I decided to brush off and rationalize as tired, confused, lost, or simply, "one of those days."

I often project myself into the future during the fall season and on Sundays-

For example, on Sunday I think of Monday, and during the spring months, I remember long hot summers.

Only, on this day in winter, I didn't think of the summer, I thought of the cowboy curtains that hung in my uncles boyhood room at my grandmothers house. When my siblings and I spent the night with our grandmother, I slept in my uncles room, and the same curtains that covered the windows in his boyhood, still hung above the bed in his room.

I called his curtains "The Cowboy Curtains," because they were covered with drawings of cowboys riding horses, roping cattle, sitting around campfires, etc...It was like watching another world from another time, and for some reason this comforted me. Each time we spent the night, I couldn't wait to go to bed and make up stories about the characters on the drapes, which, by the way, inspired tons of material.

I sat on his bed and wrote about the images on the drapes, and the sounds rich in a southern environment helped me paint the settings.

The agricultural climate in the southern part of the United States blends into your senses, becoming a part of who you are, and what you will remember for a lifetime.

I can still smell the honeysuckle vines I pulled from my grandmother’s Azalea bushes, as well as hear the crickets' sing at night.

My grandmother lived close to a train track, hence, I can remember listening to the chirping rhythm of crickets, in the background while the thunderous roar of an occasional train rumbled down the track.

These images are still in my mind and they were serving me well today- Although, I awoke in tears, I was having a heavenly morning dream, so I kept my eyes closed, and melted once again into the past. I could feel the wind and hear the cowboy's telling tall tales on the curtains, while they blew away from the open window above my head.

I opened the window in my uncle’s room before going to sleep at night, and watched the moonlight dance on the horses shadows while they floated toward the dark sky.

It seemed as though the moonlight decided to shine the light on the cowboy characters, giving them credit for having the courage to ride on unfamiliar land hoping to catch a dream.

My youthful imagination created a picture of living cowboy's in the drawings. Actually, they really looked alive when the wind wiggled the drapes back and forth against the darkness- I felt as if I were watching my own private screening from a time that passed me by-

A glimpse inside the life of horses and cowboys who shared the heart and spirit necessary to win any race, cross any countryside, or rope any calf, gives me courage- these imaginary cowboy's horses kicked dirt toward the sky until the end of every day- and so will I.

But today, when I close my eyes, I will let my minds eye watch horse and rider gallop to the rhythms of life inside the sleepy drapes of long ago.

Because, after all, I recognize this feeling...I've felt it before- this is not my first wagon ride, remember?

I will worry with the details tomorrow...I haven't the time today- time is too precious...

I will think of cowboy curtains, honeysuckle vines, my grandparents, my golden retriever...a cool drink of water... tall clover...and you-

Then I'll open my eyes...and begin a new day-


Fasten Your Seatbelts. It's Going To Be a Bumpy Night (Saturday's Favorite Movie Moment)

This scene is from All About Eve, starring the great Bette Davis, with Thelma Ritter as Birdie, Margo's housekeeper, and Celeste Holm, as Karen Richards, Margo's best friend.

Happy Saturday! Welcome to Saturday's Favorite Movie Moment.

This Saturday is the first Saturday's Favorite Movie Moment, I've published in close to a year, and I can believe it. All day today, I've been trying to figure out why the links in my post highlight to Bloggers regular blue color, but then when I publish the post, the color disappears. 

In addition, I cannot find out where to change the fonts period- I am lost- 

Although, "I can't think about that right now. If I do I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow." Can you guess what movie made that quote famous?

Anyway, if I do not figure out how to change the font colors on my blog soon, "I'll go crazy."  Hence, I've asked myself the same question I asked myself all year. 

"Is it over, or is it just beginning?"  (All About Eve)    Did Blogger change their font design that much, or is the question so easy, there isn't an answer?   Who knows? 

But  I had to "fasten my seatbelt," 'cause I had "a bumpy night." 

I'm sorry I'm behind on my blog visits, but I'm sure I'll bump into ya sometime today.

Until then, have a happy happy Saturday! And be aware of  "bumpy nights."

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Today's Popular Children's Picture Books

Today's Popular Children's Picture Books
Click on the titles below for the link to Publishers Weekly.com

The Boogeyman From Planet-Lackawanna-

You will lose yourself in the imaginative dreams of eleven year old Theodore Wilson's. Don't miss this review coming soon.

More reviews and available for purchase on Amazon .com. Just click on image of book and the link will take you there.

Thank you!

Upcoming Book Review

Upcoming Book Review
Gretchen Zufall (Author) Mike Paar (Illustrator)

Motherhood- Courage

Motherhood is an art impossible to explain, one which requires a vast sea of love, devotion, compassion, and understanding, unmatched by any affection we will ever know again.- Ann Clemmons






Words are the core of our souls, without written, vocal or lyrical expression we lose sight of one another or worse, ourselves. Words bring forth the essence of the human spirit; so express yourself without abandon.

Ann Clemmons

Favorite Phrase

I remember I used to half believe and wholly play with fairies when I was a child. What heaven can be more real than to retain the spirit-world of childhood, tempered and balanced by knowledge and common-sense...

Beatrix Potter’s Journal, 17 November 1896, from the National Trust collection.

Jacket Flap-

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The Storyteller, by Dawn Drover

Alone in her world
of make believe
weaving her stories
of magic and light

She brings joy
to the eyes
of innocent minds
less jaded and free

For only they know
what's in her heart
holding the secrets
she guards so well

Life's hidden mysteries
belong to those
whose wisdom and truth
shine on in imagination

Written for Ann
~Dawn Drover~

Of The Horoscope Junkie

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Catch your dreams

Catch your dreams


Most of the worlds' great things were born of adversity and hardship; because these roadblocks encourage us to dream, imagine and believe.- Ann Clemmons

Favorite quotes-

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.

Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”'

F. Scott Fitzgerald. (Lines from The Great Gatsby)
"A Southerner Talks Music"

Mark Twain

"A book must be the ax for the frozen sea inside us."

Franz Kafka

An author values a compliment even when it comes from a source of doubtful competency.

- Mark Twain in Eruption

"I like a good story well told. That is the reason I am sometimes forced to tell them myself"

Mark Twain

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