The staff and volunteers snapped this photo
of me just as I opened the door and realized I was
about to be savaged by a gaggle of carolers
Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
My checkbook sat by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas would bring money this year;
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the door I flew like a flash,
Peaked out the window and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my horrified eyes did appear,
But a gaggle of staff and a few tiny volundeers
With a gasp and a prayer I had to be quick,
They knew I was home, I was going to be sick.
More rapid than eagles I opened my door
Saw them, heard them, and shut it as before.
"Now, Mr. Williamson, don't be a Vixen!
Open that door, for we are fixin
To sing and sing you a Christmas Cheer
that will warm your heart and release a tear.
I begged them to stop. I clutched at my head
They sang on and on which caused such a dread.
I knew my neighbors would take such a fright.
their singing would go on and on and on all night.
Two songs in and some time for talk
I convinced them to leave for I was in shock.
My bah humbug mood was severely battered
And my life forever and ever shattered;
By those lovely carols, so destroyed;
left my heart, a sterile void.
Yes, my home was caroled last night around 9:00 P.M. It took me nearly thirty minutes to clean up the holiday cheer they left oozing around my front steps and door. I shut the door the minute I realized I was in their line of sight. They forced it back open.
Their strained version of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" was accompanied by the howling of the neighbor's dog. I thanked them for braving the cold to come visit their old boss and wished them well. It wasn't enough. They still wanted to sing.
Silent Night was their next attempt. I couldn't recognize the key, and knew it was Silent Night only because of the lyrics. I had to do something fast before the police arrived to investigate the disturbance. I started signing a different carol. I don't remember what it was. I was in a state of shock that they had gotten ME to sing.
They finally left me to my peace and returned to the work house. I shut the door making a mental note to contact the work house warden and speak to him about his security. Then something strange happened. For a moment's moment, I think I felt what I can only describe as gratitude for their willingness to drive to Pleasant Grove to sing to their old boss.
I believe my stone cold heart pushed a bit of blood through my rarely used circulatory system. I felt this warm rush overcome me. Luckily the feeling passed nearly as quickly as it had arrived. I returned to my small coal fire and bowl of lukewarm potato soup. The light of the lone candle I allow myself on a cold winter's night, flickered against the walls of my musty living room.
"Humbug," I muttered as I searched for bit of underdone potato in the murky liquid.
The stub of a candle flickered at the same moment a sound penetrated through the front door. It was the sound of a chain being dragged against the concrete. I stopped in mid stir - wondering if the staff, drunk with holiday cheer, had returned to stab me in the heart with a wreath of holly.
For a moment I thought I heard my name whispered, or was it the wind outside?
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
My checkbook sat by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas would bring money this year;
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the door I flew like a flash,
Peaked out the window and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my horrified eyes did appear,
But a gaggle of staff and a few tiny volundeers
With a gasp and a prayer I had to be quick,
They knew I was home, I was going to be sick.
More rapid than eagles I opened my door
Saw them, heard them, and shut it as before.
"Now, Mr. Williamson, don't be a Vixen!
Open that door, for we are fixin
To sing and sing you a Christmas Cheer
that will warm your heart and release a tear.
I begged them to stop. I clutched at my head
They sang on and on which caused such a dread.
I knew my neighbors would take such a fright.
their singing would go on and on and on all night.
Two songs in and some time for talk
I convinced them to leave for I was in shock.
My bah humbug mood was severely battered
And my life forever and ever shattered;
By those lovely carols, so destroyed;
left my heart, a sterile void.
Yes, my home was caroled last night around 9:00 P.M. It took me nearly thirty minutes to clean up the holiday cheer they left oozing around my front steps and door. I shut the door the minute I realized I was in their line of sight. They forced it back open.
Their strained version of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" was accompanied by the howling of the neighbor's dog. I thanked them for braving the cold to come visit their old boss and wished them well. It wasn't enough. They still wanted to sing.
Silent Night was their next attempt. I couldn't recognize the key, and knew it was Silent Night only because of the lyrics. I had to do something fast before the police arrived to investigate the disturbance. I started signing a different carol. I don't remember what it was. I was in a state of shock that they had gotten ME to sing.
They finally left me to my peace and returned to the work house. I shut the door making a mental note to contact the work house warden and speak to him about his security. Then something strange happened. For a moment's moment, I think I felt what I can only describe as gratitude for their willingness to drive to Pleasant Grove to sing to their old boss.
I believe my stone cold heart pushed a bit of blood through my rarely used circulatory system. I felt this warm rush overcome me. Luckily the feeling passed nearly as quickly as it had arrived. I returned to my small coal fire and bowl of lukewarm potato soup. The light of the lone candle I allow myself on a cold winter's night, flickered against the walls of my musty living room.
"Humbug," I muttered as I searched for bit of underdone potato in the murky liquid.
The stub of a candle flickered at the same moment a sound penetrated through the front door. It was the sound of a chain being dragged against the concrete. I stopped in mid stir - wondering if the staff, drunk with holiday cheer, had returned to stab me in the heart with a wreath of holly.
For a moment I thought I heard my name whispered, or was it the wind outside?
2 comments:
Oh man I wish I had stayed a little longer... :D
Love you vic!
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