Bonus 2023

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THE TWELVE THANK YOU NOTES OF CHRISTMAS - EMILY TO EDWARD

Loosely Based On The Twelve Days of Christmas

Hymns and Carols of Christmas
https://www.hymnsandcarolsofchristmas.com/Hymns_and_Carols/twelve_thank_you_notes_of_emily.htm

Twelve

Dec 25
My dearest darling Edward,
What a wonderful surprise has just greeted me! That sweet partridge, in that lovely little pear-tree; what an enchanting, romantic, poetic present! Bless you, and thank you.
Your deeply loving
Emily.

Dec 26
Beloved Edward,
The two turtle-doves arrived this morning, and are cooing away in the pear-tree as I write. I'm so touched and grateful!

With undying love, as always,
Emily.

Dec 27
My darling Edward,
You do think of the most original presents! Who ever thought of sending anybody three French hens? Do they really come all the way from France? It's a pity we have no chicken coops, but I expect we'll find some. Anyway, thank you so much; they're lovely.
Your devoted Emily.

Dec 28
Dearest Edward,
What a surprise! Four calling birds arrived this morning. They are very sweet, even if they do call rather loudly - they make telephoning almost impossible - but I expect they'll calm down when they get used to their new home. Anyway, I'm very grateful, of course I am.
Love from Emily.

Dec 29
Dearest Edward,
The mailman has just delivered five most beautiful gold rings, one for each finger, and all fitting perfectly! A really lovely present! Lovelier, in a way, than birds, which do take rather a lot of looking after. The four that arrived yesterday are still making a terrible row, and I'm afraid none of us got much sleep last night. Mother says she wants to use the rings to "wring" their necks. Mother has such a sense of humor. This time she's only joking, I think, but I do know what she means. Still, I love the rings.
Bless you,
Emily.

Dec 30
Dear Edward,
Whatever I expected to find when I opened the front door this morning, it certainly wasn't six socking great geese laying eggs all over the porch. Frankly, I rather hoped that you had stopped sending me birds. We have no room for them, and they've already ruined the croquet lawn. I know you meant well, but let's call a halt, shall we?
Love,
Emily.

Dec 31
Edward,
I thought I said NO MORE BIRDS. This morning, I woke up to find no more than seven swans, all trying to get into our tiny goldfish pond. I'd rather not think what's happened to the goldfish. The whole house seems to be full of birds, to say nothing of what they leave behind them, so please, please, stop!
Your Emily.

Jan 1
Frankly, I prefer the birds. What am I to do with eight milkmaids? And their cows! Is this some kind of a joke? If so, I'm afraid I don't find it very amusing.
Emily.

Jan 2
Look here, Edward,
This has gone far enough. You say you're sending me nine ladies dancing. All I can say is, judging from the way they dance, they're certainly not ladies. The village just isn't accustomed to seeing a regiment of shameless viragos, with nothing on but their lipstick, cavorting round the green, and it's Mother and I who get the blame. If you value our friends, which I do (less and less), kindly stop this ridiculous behavior at once!
Emily.

Jan 3
As I write this letter, ten disgusting old men are prancing up and down all over what used to be the garden, before the geese and the swans and the cows got at it. And several of them, I have just noticed, are taking inexcusable liberties with the milkmaids. Meanwhile the neighbors are trying to have us evicted. I shall never speak to you again.
Emily.

Jan 4
This is the last straw! You know I detest bagpipes! The place has now become something between a menagerie and a madhouse, and a man from the council has just declared it unfit for habitation. At least Mother has been spared this last outrage; they took her away yesterday afternoon in an ambulance to a home for the bewildered. I hope you're satisfied.

Sir, Jan 5
Our client, Miss Emily Wilbraham, instructs me to inform you that with the arrival on her premises at 7:30 this morning of the entire percussion section of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and several of their friends, she has no course left open to her but to seek an injunction to prevent you importuning her further. I am making arrangements for the return of much assorted livestock.
I am, Sir, yours faithfully,
G. Creep
Attorney at law.

Timothy

TIMOTHY TURKEY

by Dale Thele

Ever since Timothy can remember, he and the other turkeys on Mr. Green's farm have played chase and other turkey games. As they grew older, they also grew plump, except for Timothy. For some mysterious reason, he didn't gain weight like the other turkeys. However, this didn't prevent the turkeys from including him in their games.

One crisp November afternoon, Mr. Green strolled out to the turkey pen, casting his discerning gaze upon the flock. The turkeys, ever vigilant, sensed trouble brewing. They knew all too well what Mr. Green had in mind. He would single out a turkey, pluck it from their midst, and it would vanish forever. Whispers circulated among the elder turkeys, spinning a chilling yarn of how farmer Green would lead away the plumpest turkey and take it discreetly behind the barn. What happened next was anyone's guess. Now, mind you, this was merely a tale concocted by the seasoned turkeys, lacking any concrete evidence. However, there was a grain of truth to their tale. Every fall, without fail, farmer Green would indeed choose a fat turkey and spirit it away.

As Farmer Green surveyed the turkeys, their nerves got the best of them and they huddled together in the corner of the pen. Timothy attempted to join the group, but Thomas Turkey reassured him, saying, "You have nothing to fear, Timmy."

Curious, Timothy asked, "But why?"

Thomas replied, "Farmer Green only chooses the plumpest one among us."

"Well, I don't want any of you to be taken," Timothy defiantly declared.

"That's just how things are done on the farm," Thomas explained.

Suddenly, Farmer Green snatched Thomas and stuffed him into a burlap bag.

"You let my friend Tom go!" Timothy squawked at Farmer Green.

"Get away, leave me be," Farmer Green scolded Timothy, pushing him away with his work boot.

Despite Timothy's protest, Farmer Green carried a struggling Thomas away in the burlap bag.

Timothy felt a wave of sadness wash over him.

"What's the matter, Timothy?" James Turkey inquired.

"I don't want to see Farmer Green take any of my family away," Timothy expressed.

"What? But Timothy, you're not a turkey," James revealed.

"Of course, I'm a turkey," Timothy insisted.

"No, Timothy," James corrected. "You're a goose. You were raised by turkeys because you were adopted.”

Not to be copied or reproduced electronically or otherwise is expressly prohibited without prior written permission of the author.

Halloween

HALLOWEEN TREAT

by Dale Thele

As a child, I used to eagerly await Halloween with immense excitement. I'd spend weeks brainstorming the most frightfully fantastic costume, mapping the perfect trick-or-treating route, and eagerly anticipating the bountiful stash of treats I would bring home. However, to my dismay, Halloween never quite lived up to my expectations. It always fell disappointingly short. You see, those pesky neighborhood bullies had a knack for ruining my Halloween fun, throwing a wrench into my plans, and spoiling the annual experience.

However, there was this one Halloween when those bullies didn't manage to ruin my night. I must have been around nine years old, and let me tell you, I had the most amazing costume. I don't recall what it was but trust me, all of my costumes were fabulous. So, it was Halloween night, and I was on a roll, going from house to house, collecting candy like a pro. I had a feeling that this Halloween would be my best haul ever.

But guess who decided to make an appearance? You got it, the neighborhood bullies. Just when I thought I was in for a successful Halloween, they showed up to rain on my parade. Those guys always had some wicked plan up their sleeves, and it usually meant I ended up losing all my hard-earned treats. It was a real bummer, and my high hopes quickly swirled down the drain.

I was blindfolded and led on foot to an unfamiliar place. How could I possibly know where I was being taken? The blindfold prevented me from seeing anything. As I walked, I could hear the sound of dried leaves rustling beneath my feet. The air was filled with the excited voices of trick-or-treaters, knocking on doors and shouting "Trick-or-Treat!" I could also hear the snickering and whispering of the bullies who were guiding me toward an unknown destination.

Finally, we came to a halt. One of the bullies took off my blindfold, revealing our location outside the eerie wrought iron gate of the creepiest house I'd ever seen. The surroundings were dimly lit, with just a sliver of an orange moon and wispy silver clouds drifting across the sky. The leader of the bullies instructed me to go to the front door of the haunted house and demand a trick-or-treat. If I dared to decline, he threatened to strip me of my costume, leaving me embarrassingly clad in just my underwear.

After some negotiation on my part, I reluctantly agreed to approach the eerie house. In return, they promised to reward me with a Matchbox car and a meager sum of seventy-eight cents, which was all the money they had between them. Additionally, they assured me that I would be allowed to leave unharmed and fully dressed.

I approached the old, rusty wrought iron gate and gave it a push. It let out a loud, ear-piercing squeak that could have woken the dead. Suddenly, a cat let out a terrifying scream, and swarms of bats flew out from a nearby dead tree. I was so frightened that I trembled uncontrollably, frozen in place like a statue. Once the chaos settled, the intimidating bully boss ordered me to go to the porch, threatening to take my clothes if I didn't comply.

I cautiously tiptoed along the sidewalk, which was littered with broken and crumbling cement chunks. Each step I took made a crunching sound, echoing through the eerie silence. Finally, I reached the wooden steps leading up to the porch. As I gingerly placed my foot on the first step, it let out a creaking noise. Another cat let out a blood-curdling scream, causing the bullies to flee in fear. I was left all alone on the first step of the porch, feeling a mix of fright and apprehension.

At that moment, I had two options: I could either run away as fast as I could or continue to the door. I thought to myself, "Well, I've come this far, might as well go all the way." With caution, I climbed the stairs until I found myself standing on the porch made of warped slat-boards. The porch was covered in dried leaves as if it hadn't been swept in ages. Undeterred, I made my way towards the front door. It was a massive old wooden door adorned with intricate carvings. I reached out and grabbed hold of the lion head metal door knocker, giving it two light taps. Dust went flying from the creases in the door's decorations. I didn't want to wake anyone up if they were sleeping, not that there was anyone alive in there anyway. After waiting for a few moments, I let out a sigh, assuming that no one was home since no one answered the door. Just as I turned to leave, I heard the door latch click. Something or someone was inside, but who or what could it be? Slowly, I turned back to face the door, which creaked open just a tiny bit. I couldn't see who or what was on the other side. With a trembling, hoarse voice, I managed to croak, "Trick-or-treat?"

A withered, gnarled hand emerged from the narrow gap between the door and the doorframe. It beckoned me to come closer, perhaps to snatch me up for a midnight snack. I squeezed my eyes shut and cautiously took a step forward, bracing myself for what awaited me. Suddenly, a torrent of goodies cascaded into my trick-or-treat bag. I opened my eyes, only to find the withered hand generously pouring full-sized candy bars from a large bowl into my goodie bag.

I expressed my gratitude to whatever was behind that door for the treats, and happily stepped off the porch, almost skipping. I didn't end up being devoured by some hideous monster; instead, I scored a ton of delicious candy bars. Plus, the bullies didn't get the chance to embarrass me by taking my pants. All in all, I must say I had a pretty darn fantastic Halloween.