Many Trails
December 26, 2013
by Adrien Taylor
Dec 25, 2013 | 1859 views | 0 0 comments | 66 66 recommendations | email to a friend | print
For weeks now, I have been negligent about writing a column. I’d say, I’m doing an Ollie Harris, except I didn’t write about not writing a column anymore. I just quit. Laziness. Ollie at least announced his intention, saying that he had written about all he had to say. And then, of course, he found he had more to say, and sent another column. We don’t expect weekly words of sage from anybody, although we do get them from the syndicated columnists.

So I have been berated from several friends and will endeavor to overcome my laziness, and let people know what is going on in my mind and life.

This year has been one of loss and gain. We have lost our dear son, grandson, brother, nephew, great-nephew, cousin, uncle and friend, Zachary, to a rock climbing accident. It is some small consolation that he rests near his grandad and my husband, Sam, in Grand Valley Cemetery, but his death was a great blow to this family.

We have gained two new babies – Allyssa and Nathan Keogh’s daughter, Harper Quinn Keogh, and Zane and Kemry Taylor’s son, Tyr Zachary Taylor. Babies add a sweetness to life, and watching their every little accomplishment reminds us to be mindful of our own lives and that we should ever be careful to set a good example and help the younger ones on their way.

This business of having new babies in the family reminded me of an old Christmas song, sung lovingly and lustily at Foote family gatherings during the Christmas season during my girlhood years. I don’t have a way of giving the melody here, and it’s really quite repetitive, but I haven’t found anybody else hereabouts in my acquaintance yet, who knows the words.

This is my Christmas gift to you, the words to:

“Hang Up the Baby’s Stocking”

Hang up the baby’s stocking, be sure you don’t forget,

For the dear little dimpled darling has never seen Christmas yet.

I’ve told (her or him, as appropriate) all about it,

And she opens her big blue eyes,

As though she understood it, she looks so funny and wise.

As for the baby’s stocking, it never would do at all,

For Santa would never be looking for anything half so small.

So for the baby’s Christmas. I have the very best plan:

I’ll borrow a stocking from Grandma, the biggest that ever I can.

I’ll write a note to Santa, and pin it on just so, saying,

This is the baby’s stocking. Please fill it from top to toe.

You’ve never seen her Santa, for she only came this year,

But you are sure to love her, for she is such a dear.

Hang up the baby’s stocking, be sure you don’t forget,

For the dear little dimpled darling has never seen Christmas yet.

And a merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

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