Christmas all year round...

It has now been almost 80 days since Scott and I tied the knot and we are still recieving wedding gifts! Just this weekend, we recieved some items from Pampered Chef, four very cute mixing bowls, napkins, and a Willowbrook picture frame and figurine.  Getting married can mean presents for months to come and it can feel like Christmas all year round!  Another gift that was given to us this weekend from my dear great-aunt and her husband, was a tea set by Noble Excellence.  It came in a large hat box and contains little tea cups and plates, a saucer, and a darling little pot (which I have included below).  Each little cup displays a picture and a few lines from "Twas the Night Before Christmas." I'm so excited about displaying them for our first Christmas together as a married couple on our make-shift mantel (since we live in an apartment, we just bought a shelf that we are planning to use for Christmas decorations and for hanging our stockings). 

In other news, along with getting two more guitar referals this weekend (!!!), today I found out that my poem won second place in the John Fox Jr. Poetry Contest.  I will recieve $50 in the mail soon, along with a booklet including my poem and the other winners.  I always enter my poems or short stories in this yearly contest. It  reminds me of Jo March in Little Women recieving compensation for her short stories when I recieve my own check in the mail. 

SHOWER

Wide-hipped women come out of their houses;

come down from their hollers and make the

religious pilgrimage.

They’ll have wrapped up

pots

pans

towels

curtains

“Why when (Roger/Harold/Thomas/Nathan/John) and I were married, we didn’t have a thing to our name.”

silver spoons

knives

forks

“Another girl gettin’ married off – seems like just yesterday she come out of her momma screamin’, curly headed with fat cheeks.”

handpainted plates

hand-written recipes

“Why she won’t even cook – probably make him eat out every night.”

television sets

movie players

music players

Some of their men have gone on to Jesus and others are there in body only.

This is what they live for – a girl becoming a wife, a woman.

Marching in with their odd-shaped packages,

print Easter dresses worn even in November – coal dust clinging to their hemlines

candlesticks

picture frames

mixing bowls

They sit around together, little hens pecking each little detail.

They’ll be chewing on this one for a while, like the tobacco stained on their men’s teeth.

telephones

address books

They’ll make a note to call up a prayer chain when they get home,

Go back to their hollers, back to their houses and tell (Roger/Harold/Thomas/Nathan/John):

“Why they won’t be half as happy as we were.”

If he’s there, he’ll smile at her, peeling his eyes away from the television set

to say, “That’s nice, dear.”

If he’s not, she’ll take his picture down from the shelf

and he’ll smile at her, uniformed and forever young.

Either way, she’ll walk in the kitchen with a handkerchief,

wiping a tear from her cheek.