Wrinkly Bits
A Blog by Gail Cushman
I’ve had my eye on Cowboy, watching for all those presents. We now have a pear forest which might be a good idea or not, depending on how hardy pear trees are. We now have lots of birds, partridges, turtle doves, French hens, calling birds (which I learned are turkeys), geese, and swans. They are all outside, a-swarming around, making bird sounds like a-cackling and a-honking and there’s a whole lot of feather a-fluttering going on. The geese and the swans go at it every few minutes and then we have Cody, poor pitiful Cody. He lost control of his estate and is hoarse from barking. Our neighbor, a deputy sheriff, just called, “Gail, what in the hell is going on? Can’t you quiet things down?” I shrugged, not sure what to do, so now I’m sort of hanging out, hoping these birds will fly away before the deputy tickets me for having obnoxious birds. The milkmaids arrived, but didn’t stay long because we don’t have any cows. The wind died down, so the dancing ladies stopped, too, and those nine announced they were headed to bar. The cowboys had duded up for the milkmaids, who had already left, but the cowboys quit telling stories and followed the dancing ladies to the bar. I’m now waiting for the pipers to appear.
This is Montana and we learn to adapt to difficult situations. Montana is known for its beef, not pipers, and they are few and far between. I wasn’t sure what the crazy Cowboy would dig up next. We have a pipe organ at our church, and I know a few people who like to “pipe up” and my coat has piping on it, so lots of opportunity. I know a few pipe fitters and we have a few extra pipes sitting around, awaiting an emergency.
After the week I have had, I expected that Cowboy would bring pigeons. You know, 11 pigeons a-pooping, so some other “p” verb like a-pecking or a-plucking. Using pigeons easily continues the rhythm of the song, but it was not to be. We went to lunch today and the little café was half filled. Ten people. All had harmonicas. Yes, the Harmonizing Harmonicas. Cowboy reached into his coat pocket, and lo and behold, a harmonica. His 11th day gift: a harmonica, making eleven harmonicas a-harmonizing. It’s a fit!
Tomorrow will complete the Twelve Days of Christmas, Gail’s style…twelve drummers a-drumming! Wait for it!
If you have been a-procrastinating buying a present for somebody you forget, take a look at Amazon, and send them a Kindle of one of my masterpieces. Cheers! Merry Christmas!
