Favorite Carol Survey

The sounds of the season never cease to warm our hearts. From classic hymns to yuletide anthems, it seems everyone has at least one Christmas carol that, no matter where they are, spurs them to break into song.

The Missy Times wants to know: Which carol is your favorite?

Thank you to all our friends who've already submitted their answers. You can post yours as a comment below. We look forward to the nominations yet to come!

The Newest Missy Times

Inside "The Missy Times"

"What About This One?"

Owner Reveals Origin of Puppy Name

Honest Abe

Turkey Found Frozen in the Refridgerator, Grandmother Steps in to Save the Day

Life Is Good Spreads Optimism

Christmas Carol Survey

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The Sights of Light-Up Night: a Never Before Published Article

                                    The Sights of Light-Up Night    

The Friday after Thanksgiving was bitterly cold. The icy wind blew through the early winter night air, biting the cheeks and fingers of anyone who dared to go out in it. The black dome of the sky was covered with clouds, not a star shone up above.

     You might wonder why anyone would want to be outside in these conditions, but there actually were tens, maybe hundreds of people out around town on this very night in Beaver Pennsylvania. No, the residents of our small town are not crazy. It’s not a habit of ours to be out in freezing 20 degree weather in the dark. On the contrary, most of the time, most people would much prefer to be shut inside their nice, warm houses. But, besides being Black Friday, this November 26^th marked a very special once in a lifetime (actually once in a year) occasion. It was Beaver’s annual Light-Up Night, and I observed it firsthand.

      At about twenty after six, armed with gloves, hats, and scarves, we walked up to Third Street just in time to catch a glimpse of the parade, which was very interesting, to say the least. The floats, band, cars and carriages would process down the street and then turn around and make a loop so that, at times, the parade was going in two different directions! It was very entertaining. After the parade had ended, we started to look around.

      True to its name, Light-Up Night was quite full of lights. All of Main Street was aglow. The Christmas lights that were strung on the trees in October were finally lit. The windows of the storefronts were all dressed up with holiday decorations beckoning you inside and luminaries lined the sidewalk.

      Clusters of people filtered in and out of the open stores, viewing the merchandise, watching the live models in the Shirley Shop, listening to the orchestra students from Beaver as they moved from store to store, and some, even eating at one of the restaurants.

The Borough offered free hot chocolate and donuts, while down at the historical museum’s log cabin, costumed volunteers served homemade cookies and hot apple cider cooked over a warm fire.

     After we had seen all the sights of Light-Up Night, we walked back home to our warm house and went to bed. What a wonderful job Beaver did, yet again, putting on such a festive event.

This post is from November, 2010

Shame on You, Old Man Winter

                                            

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

What have you done with our sun?

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

For clouding our blue sky.

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

You creep through the cracks of our homes

And whistle through the trees.

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

For taking away our sun,

Our hands are chapped

Our skin goose-bumped

Our coats forever buttoned.

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

For taking away our sun

The light is gone

Our days are dark

Even the moon hides.

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

For taking away our sun

The streets are damp

The grass dead

The plants shriveled and brown

Shame on you, Old Man Winter,

For taking away our sun

Shame on you.

Finding Rawly (the rest of the story, part 2)

The following is a continued segment of The Missy Times story, "Finding Rawly":

Although I was missing the meet-and-greet with Stewart, I still had hope that I would find a dog that weekend.  Near my sister's house was a puppy and kitten shelter called "Love at First Sight". Love at First Sight takes young animals from local people whose pets have had unexpected litters and gives them a chance to be adopted. "Maybe you'll find your puppy here!" Maria always told me. Wouldn't that be just perfect, I thought to myself.

The night we arrived in Nashville we stopped and looked in the shop's window. The cinder-block walls were a soft purple and the floors a clean white tile. The light from the parking lot fell across the floor, onto the little crates where the puppies were sleeping. I could see their furry bodies rhythmically moving up and down as they dozed. One even lifted his head and looked at us. I was giddy from head to toe. Collie/Beagle mixes? Brown Feists? No one could tear me away from that window. I could feel it inside. One of these might be "The One". We agreed to come back the next day to meet them, and reluctantly, I walked back to the car.

So Saturday morning we headed off to Love at First Sight-- wait, no, scratch that. FIRST we went to mass at the nearby St. Cecilia motherhouse; THEN we went to Maria's farmers market. That's where the next important event in this story takes place. As we made our way around the booths, each filled with abundant produce: radishes, pumpkins, kale, tomatoes, etc.,  I had my eyes peeled for puppies, because after all, they were on my mind. And one suddenly appeared out of nowhere! A woman was standing with her little beagle- mix puppy, a ten-week old named Caleb whom she had adopted from Love at First Sight! I petted him, let him lick my face and marveled at just how good-natured he was. Naturally my heart skipped a beat when I was informed the dog needed a new home. A new home..... daughter was allergic......really good dog......, these were the words I picked out of the conversation. All thoughts of Stewart and those sweet puppies at Love at First Sight left my mind. It was 'love at first sight', and I wanted this pooch! Caleb seemed like a true God-send-- what was the chance we would meet this woman who just happened to be there with her dog whom she needed to re-home? We wouldn't have to go through the whole adoption process; he was already crate and semi-house trained; and had a good start to his life. He wasn't quite the puppy I'd had in mind for myself, but I loved him. And it was meant to be, right?

The next 24 hours were a whirlwind at best. Decisions were made and details worked out. First the family wasn't sure if they wanted to break the contract they'd made with veterinary hospital. Then the kids were hesitant to send the puppy so far away. Then we weren't sure if nine hours in the car would be good for Caleb. Then the mother mentioned a bacteria infection he'd had less than a week before. But in the end,  it was unanimous. The dog would come home with the Koshute family. I was so excited, finally, we'd found our dog.

Sunday morning we went to visit with Caleb's family one last time before picking him up; what we saw was amazing. We saw him through new eyes. He would not stop running around our ankles, licking our feet or jumping up. His face was not as cute as I'd remembered, and deep down in my heart there was an awful twinge of doubt. My father, already in disbelief that we were actually getting a dog, looked like he was going to faint. Driving back to Maria's apartment, Mom turned to me and said, "Missy, are you sure that's the dog for you?" I knew it wasn't.

Dejected and discouraged, though oddly at peace, I packed up my things to go home. Mom called Caleb's owner and told her the news. We were back to square one. No dog.

Then I remembered Stewart-- was he still available? I checked Petfinder, and indeed, he was. A call to the shelter and we had our appointment for that following Wednesday. My spirits were lifted. I'd asked the Lord that if Stewart was the right dog, would He please save him for us? And he did. He'd guided us out of choosing Caleb and led us back to Stewart. Perhaps he was meant for me after all!

Stay tuned for the next and final installment of Rawly's story!

Coming Soon!

Articles to look forward to in your next Missy Times!

Finding Rawly

No Struggle for "The Struggle Tour"

Editor Classifies Game Types

The Value of Books

What People Did for Me on My Summer Vacation (Jake)

No, this time it's what people did for me.

For this first edition of  "What People Did for Me on My Summer Vacation" I'll tell you about a special person I'll call Jake.

What exactly did Jake do for me?
He was a smiling face at a time I felt like frowning.

Jake was a lab tech at Children's Hospital in Pittsburgh, and at my intial G.I. appointment in late april he helped to draw my blood. He was young -- no older than one of my siblings-- and friendly, and a nice person to talk to. He reminded my mom of one of our neighbors. His jovial demeanor and youthfulness put me at ease.

Never imagining we would see him again, I naturally was suprised to bump into him on the morning of my colonoscopy. He was on his break, and as we sat outside the hospital we listened to him talk about his family and where he was from. He told us about his job, he told us about his pets. It was a nice escape to sit and be distracted for while. Today I thank Jake for being such a friendly face.... and for what he did for me on my summer vacation.

Favorite Songs, Part 1

                                      


Here are a few songs that really kept me going when I was sick:

Mercy Me "The Hurt and the Healer"

Kelly Clarkson "Stronger"

Laura Story "Blessings"

Matt Redman "10,000 Reasons"

Switchfoot "Where I Belong"

Check back later for more of my greatest hits!

Comeback Time!

The Missy Times is back. It's more kicking than ever. And it's coming soon to a mailbox near you.

Introducing: Iceburgh the Penguin

"Oh, what do we have here?" The woman reached back into a pile of oranges and pulled out a fluffy stuffed penguin. "Awww, how cute! What am I supposed to do with him?"

I turned to my mom and chuckled. Only at "Trader Joe's" is a shopper granted the satisfaction of finding a furry friend hidden among the produce.

"Ahh, you've found Iceburgh!" an enthusiastic employee popped up from the other side of the fruit display.

"Okay, so now what?"

"Well, it's a thing for the kids. They find the penguin and get a prize. Do you have a little one?"

"No, not with me" the lady laughed, "I have a little granddaughter, though. Does that count?"

"Sorry!" the employee threw up her hands. "I'm afraid not"

"I'm a little one!" I spoke up, half joking.

But she just smiled and went back to stacking her pears.

"You could find the penguin, Missy." My mom nudged me "Go take it up to the counter and see what they say."

It was worth a try. I took "Iceburgh" and, presenting him to a man near the front of the store, exclaimed in my youngest voice, "Excuse me sir, I but found this penguin over there."

"Good for you!" he said "Come on over here and pick out a little something."

I followed him eagerly to the basket. What would the prize be? An awesome Trader Joe hat? A colorful pin? A reusable shopping bag? A roll of those cool stickers they give away at the checkout? The suspense was killing me!

I peered into the basket AND....... my heart sank.

Candy. And fruit strips.

Wow.

No wonder this game was for "little ones".

"Oh, thank you!" I beamed at him.

"You're welcome! And you know the coolest part? Now you get to hide him wherever you want!"

 That did sound pretty neat.

And so, Iceburgh and I proceeded throughout the store searching for his next hiding place. We parted ways at the grits, which I chose because of their excellent black and white camoflauge, and bid each other farewell.

Another of my Trader Joe adventures had come to a close, but, as far as I know,  for good old Iceburgh the penguin, his were just beginning.

Oh Spring!

I opened my eyes this morning to hear the sound of birds --oh, sweet birds!-- wafting through my window. The day's young sun was glowing red, shining off the dew-wetted grass and glistening on the panes of my neighbors' windows. I could feel the freshness in the air, still flushed with the night's cool chill, as it blew softly into my bedroom.

It was a lovely wake-up call; a soothing "Good Morning!" for my senses. My ears could hear it. My eyes, as they took in the lovely scene, could see its beauty. My nose could smell it in the aroma of the warm, damp earth permeating up from the ground. My skin, shivering a little and covered with goosebumps, could sense it. I knew what day this was.

"Today is the day when life begins!" my heart nearly sang for joy, "Spring is finally here! The world is awake and alive. And finally, FINALLY, the long LONG winter is over......"

I jumped out of the covers and began fixing my bed. What a lovely thought. And what a lovely day, a lovely season, a lovely new chapter this spring has already turned out to be.

Note: So yes, spring has begun. I've started my vegetable garden (swiss chard, broccoli, peas, mesclun and arugula have already taken their places in our raised beds) and have been living mostly outside in the afternoons enjoying the amazing warm weather. I've taken up shooting hoops on my back basketball court again, and riding my bike has been fun as well. But the biggest news of all, as you can see from above, is that I've started to write a little bit again. Slowly but surely, the old knack is coming back, and with it, soon The Missy Times will too. So Stay tuned! Meanwhile, check out this video: one of my favorite songs by Coldplay that I think sounds quite springy and lighthearted. 

Have You Ever Seen This Side of Andy Warhol?

Scenes from the "Warhol: Headlines" exhibit now on display at the National Gallery, Washington, D.C. (Article coming soon to The Missy Times)

Visitors touring the exhibit at the National Gallery, Washington, D.C



Isn't the detail and texture amazing?



Warhol drew the pages on silkscreen with pen and ink

Many of his sketches bear striking resemblance to early issues of the Missy Times