Tag Archives: Christmas

December 14, 2025 · 10:07 am

An ill wind

Jackie Wells-Fauth

Imagine me writing about wind! Wonder what gave me the idea. Maybe it was the random bit of cardboard box that slapped me in the teeth as I stepped out into the “gentle breezes” this week!

There’s an old saying that goes something like: It’s an ill wind that blows no good. Well, ladies and gentlemen, I’m here to tell you that this is, indeed, an ill wind!

I’m used to the struggles we all have with the “light zephyr” type winds that spread their teasing fingertips across our land. Okay, it’s more like a sonic boom that has the power to knock you flat! Knowing all this, however, doesn’t make me any fonder of the blast and if my wording above misleads you, I can assure you that I am taking refuge in sarcasm!

It’s not that I don’t hope. I was checking my phone for the weather (and that’s a new one for me) and all of the sudden, it flipped to a new screen which said, “sunny skies, 69 degrees.” How wonderful! I knew I was on the wrong forecast, however, when it continued, “calm winds, quiet night.” Okay, so with my great technological skills, I had found the forecast for San Diego, California. Disappointing for here, but from the sounds of it, maybe I should go there!

But back to South Dakota and the less than calm winds we are getting. I went out to get the mail the other day and this was not on the worst day. I get my mail from a community mailbox stand and when I got it out, I laid the letters on top so I could turn back and lock my box.

Immediately, the wind picked up the top letter and flipped it to the ground. I debated: did I really want to get down between those two boxes to try to retrieve it? It could just be a bill, but then again, maybe it was a Christmas card—it is the season.

Getting down on my knees in the snow is probably pretty amazing for me, but getting back up is a Christmas miracle. I had retrieved the letter, however, and it was definitely a Christmas card. Standing there, so proud of my achievement, I reached up to get the rest of the letters from where I had placed them on top of the boxes. Just as I did, the wind flipped them onto the ground beyond the mailboxes and in the neighbor’s back yard.

They were scattered around and again, I considered how bad did I want to retrieve them. With my brand new coat’s long skirts (the reason I bought it) twisting around my legs and my not waterproof shoes wading through snow, I chased down all of those letters. Every one was an advertisement!

Oh well, at least I had the Christmas card. I put my hand down to be certain I had placed it in my pocket. In so doing, I knocked it out and the wind took it for another playful little run, with me running behind!

By the time I got it, the paper was somewhat saturated and the Christmas letter inside a little hard to read. But never fear, every one of those ads was warm, dry and undamaged. They also quickly hit the garbage!

The only other thing I had gotten in that ill wind was a couple of large rolls of Christmas paper, which I stacked on the landing to my front door, just a little above my head when I’m on the ground. I was going to fetch something else (I’m not remembering what), so I turned away just in time for the wind to blow both of those rolls of paper off, hitting me neatly in the back of the head.

By the time I got in with soggy mail and damp but dangerous Christmas paper, I was a trifle grumpy. I scraped the hair out of my face with my very best Taylor Swift gesture and said to the dog staring innocently up at me: “What are you looking at? I’ve been out on this lovely day and it just blew my mind!”

It’s an ill wind, folks! How far is it to San Diego, anyway?

Up on the housetop, reindeer pause; out jumps good old…Santa Cat?

It’s that time of year, folks. The time of year when I must enter the annual battle between the pets in the house and the Christmas decorations. Anyone who has pets knows exactly what I’m talking about here. Animals, who lay on, crawl through or knock over any Christmas decoration that impedes their path and owners who pull out their hair as they try to rescue the bulbs, lights, statuary, greenery, ect. which hit the deck under furry paws.
I never worried about this in the days BDC (Before Dogs and Cats.) But it began with our first housedog, Patch, who was fascinated by the Christmas tree. She would shove her doggy nose against the bulbs and she apparently didn’t like what she saw because she would bite those glass Christmas bulbs until they popped and glass scattered everywhere. I would hear a glass ball explode and race to the living room in time to see her delicately spitting the shards out of her teeth.

“You’re gonna die if that stuff gets in your innards,” I would threaten, but she was unaffected. She would simply turn back to the tree, selecting her next victim. She is the reason I learned to put the stuff on the bottom that I really didn’t care about.

The next dog we got, Ammie, was much more interested in the texture of the artificial tree. For some reason, she felt the most inward portions of the tree were best, so I would have the thrill of walking into the living room and watching the tree doing a crazy, drunken dance because Ammie was under it, chewing on the under branches.

Our current dog has continued the Christmas “dance with disaster.” She is particularly fascinated with anything wooden (those ornaments are now at the top). In addition, flashing colored lights have a bad effect on her. She barked non-stop for the first two weeks after I hung the flashing lights in the window last Christmas and then she solved the problem by chewing the whole string in half. I told her that if there was any justice, her eyes would have lit up like the Christmas lights, but apparently, there is no justice for this, because she survived her electrical Russian roulette.

Cats are much more likely to climb the tree, but in my house, they quickly decide that the Christmas scarf under it is their own private bed. Hosmer, the cat we have now, cannot be stopped. I’ve put things in front of the tree and presents where she wants to lie. She merely cleans things out and lays there anyway. She also likes the nativity barn and has never heard that there was no room at the inn, because she has been known to push out the Christ child so she can lay inside.

Gifts are another issue, since I have learned not to put them under the tree. The cats will claw anything soft open. I awoke one morning to see the cat peacefully sleeping on a pillow I had handmade for my mother, the shreds of the paper wrapping surrounding her on the floor. The dog was even worse, since one year I awoke to find a half dozen presents torn open and a box of chocolates (which had been wrapped in plastic as well as wrapping paper, open and gone. She had smelled the candy and torn through the gifts until she found it. I suppose I could consider myself fortunate that she found it after destroying only half a dozen gifts!

Any hopes that I had that this year would be calmer have been destroyed already. The cat has succeeded in crawling over a line of ceramic Old World Santas to take up her regular abode under the tree and the dog has already knocked over the large ceramic camel and two wise men in my nativity set. A star appeared in the east and the wise men came, but they reckoned without the giant dog who knocked over their camels and sat on the Christ child! Everyone have fun putting up your decorations and have a joyous season!

Random wandering through random thoughts

I love all the Christmas movies, don’t you? I watch A Christmas Carol (all 50 versions) and Miracle on 34^th Street (I like the Maureen O’Hara, Natalie Wood one best), along with It’s a Wonderful Life and even Christmas Vacation. White Christmas is another favorite, along with Holiday Inn.

At least one weekend a year I load them all up and watch them in one giant, Christmas pig-out. Unfortunately, however, I come up with some of the same random questions every year.

For instance, why does Scrooge’s nephew keep putting up with his uncle? If you ask me, it’s almost harder to believe that Fred (the nephew) never told old Scrooge to stick it up his humbug than it is to believe that anyone could be as bad as Scrooge. And then, when Scrooge shows up at Fred’s house after his miraculous transformation, Fred just invites him in; doesn’t ask for a blood test or a detox certificate—just lets him in the door. If you ask me, Fred’s got some issues.

And, speaking of movies and certifiable characters, let’s take the case of Kris Kringle in Miracle on 34^th Street. I’ve never understood exactly what they were trying to prove in the trial held in that movie. Were they trying to prove that Santa Claus was sane or that Kris was sane or that Kris was Santa Claus…and sane? Whichever it is, I ask them to remember that you can’t prove a guy is sane AND prove that he is Santa Claus…that would mean you should be locked up yourself! And as for those lazy louts at the post office, how long do you leave the dead letter room collecting mail before you clean it? It could be that this may explain why our post is slow sometimes!

This brings me to Christmas Vacation. No one wants a nice family Christmas more than me, but I am unwilling to do it at the expense of my sanity. This man endured cat food in the Jello, a dog hacking up under the holiday table, a cigar-smoking old man who set his toupee and the tree on fire and a completely clueless relative without the brains to recognize overt hostility. We’re lucky we didn’t witness a complete meltdown, instead of just a guy sitting in the attic wearing his mother’s dress wraps and weeping over old movies….wait a minute, maybe that was it!

My biggest problem of all, however, comes when I take up the issue of Mr. Potter in It’s a Wonderful Life. This Harry Potter (I’ve always been fascinated by the fact that his name was Henry F. Potter), was not like the lovable English wizard. Henry F. Potter was unsympathetic, vindictive and he did not care about the common muggle…I mean, man. I could live with that, but I can’t live with the fact that he stole 8,000 dollars from that twit, Uncle Billy and then was never brought to justice. How is this right? Shouldn’t a film that ends with everyone standing around, throwing money on the table and singing Auld Lang Syne, also deal out proper justice to a thief? article-2528752-1A46AE3700000578-236_634x396

I’ve often thought there should have been a sequel to this movie: Potter Gets His. George will wake up the morning after the Christmas party with a slight hangover from Mr. Martini’s wine (ironic name there, by the way); he will squeeze the location of the lost money out of Uncle Billy and then he will stomp down to Potter’s office, drag him out of that wheelchair and beat him with his own hard heart.

Okay, I have to get busy making some Christmas candy and banana bread, so I’m going to leave this useless rambling alone, as it gets me nowhere. But as I stir the fudge, I know I’m going to be asking that question that’s on everyone’s mind: how DID they get all those former soldiers up to Pine Tree, Vermont, squeezed into their old Army uniforms, just so a retired general could get snow on his ski slopes? Never mind, I’ll figure it out for myself! Have a merry Christmas.

© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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An ill wind

Up on the housetop, reindeer pause; out jumps good old…Santa Cat?

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