Its a time of telling tales

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Good old Charles Dickens had it right. On the penny. Yule Tide is a great time for ghosts and tales that stretch the imagination. Many of us no longer sit around fire places, trying not to look into the shadows in the room. We are used to electricity and lights where ever we please. And heat. Central heating is a great thing. But... in those days, stories were the entertainment, a great way to help a person to forget the cold and creepy shadows. I think on this as I snip green construction paper for the back of my latest Christmas Tale. I think I've written a dozen of these tales. Such fun..... Worlds that aren't real and yet are to me. In one Tale a lady in a nursing home helps a man realize what Christmas is. Together they discover the beauty and mystery up in the Sierra Nevadas. They help a ghostly passenger get down the mountain...... In another, a Pasada passes through a little town, (Mary, and Joseph riding a little donkey) Did you see that? What? In another of my tales a man named Ben, the drunk mayor or so he says of a little neighborhood, makes sure an elderly lady on an island gets her prize though she has a heart condition and should not have that prize hidden in her toilet tank. Such Tales. All grab me and insist I write them. So I do. Thanks Dad: you were in the age when school cost money and you never made it past eighth grade. But you told tales. I think some of you is part of me.