Many years ago I offered to write the Christmas Rural Legends column with the goal of helping to balance our workload and life. Apparently once you do something twice it becomes a tradition. Rural Legends has become our place to stop and laugh. We are so wrapped up in the hustle and bustle of life that we often lack humor. I selfishly claim the rural legends of Averett as love letters to me. He encourages me to be creative, to enjoy life and to laugh.
We wish you and your family a Merry Christmas filled with love and laughter! —SJ
(I promise, no one was hurt while writing this week’s column!)
It was the week before Christmas and all over the house
are unfinished projects started by me and my spouse.
The tree is not up, the gifts are not wrapped.
The lights are all tangled, in a heap to dispose of.
There is food to bake and cookies to bake
Cards to send and sheets to rake!
These are the thoughts that run through my head
As I try to sleep at night, all snuggled up in my bed.
” Why ? I wonder this time of year,
“Do I let our chaos diminish my joy?” “
“This year will be different!” I exclaimed in June!
I changed jobs. I was on the moon!
No more long days of parcel delivery
My job now prevents people from being cautious.
I do home heating and fleet services,
And I can’t help but brag, I work with a great team.
But this phone can ring, and it rings
Some nights, I go with my head in the buzz.
Did I do the right thing? Will Santa notice it? Will Santa Claus care?
Will the packages arrive? Will the recipients swear?
I think about these things as I drive back and forth,
And I trust my replacement to know where to go.
So why are our lives all abusive
when we supposedly left this madness and turmoil?
“Busy procrastination,” said my other half.
“Is this such a thing?” I asked, laughing.
“Sure!” it has become melodramatic,
As I hastily search for a diagram online on Google.
“You are busy as busy as possible,
But you always push back decorating that tree.
You have sewn 16 angels. You made several cakes.
You have studied the section on Jake brakes on large trucks.
You folded clothes, washed the windows that I see,
But you still haven’t started decorating the tree.
I would help you if you let me, he said with a smile.
“When you run like that, I just hide for a moment.
I’m afraid of being trampled, trampled or crushed
While you are working on your projects in a mad and frantic rush.
“I repeat,” said my husband, “I love you my dear,
When you run like this we all live in fear.
You should take a little break, drink a short beer.
There are things we could do while the kids are away.
And then we could snuggle up and take a nap.
Things will wait, I promise you.
I whispered incoherently in my beard,
“This man surely flirts with death.”
I continued to sew, cook and clean
And sometimes I remembered looking really mean.
Yeah, he actually said it all,
And boy, let me tell you that was not enough.
“Your Christmas column for the newspaper is due”
And he retreated hastily as if he wanted to.
If you’ve read this far I think you’ll agree
I could come down for murder; we will wait and see.