Friday Challenge

Tell a story in 100 words or less.


Jerry
My brother.
He died last year. Kidney disease. I used to keep him company during the long hours of dialysis. We were so close, sometimes it seemed I knew his thoughts, and he mine. I wonder if he knew that his doctor asked me to donate one of my kidneys.
And that I refused.

A Christmas Poem

As we decorate the Christmas tree, shop for presents, and relax with our loved ones, let us not forget those who cannot be at home this holiday season.

In 1986 James M. Schmidt, a United States Marine Corps Lance Corporal, stationed in Washington D.C., wrote the poem below:



Merry Christmas, My Friend

'Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
in a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.

I had come down the chimney, with presents to give
and to see just who in this home did live.

As I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures of a far-distant land.

With medals and badges, awards of all kind,
a sobering thought soon came to my mind.
For this house was different, unlike any I'd seen
This was the home of a U.S. Marine.

I'd heard stories, I had to see more,
so I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one-bedroom home.

He seemed so gentle, his face so serene,
not how I pictured a U.S. Marine.
Was this the hero, of whom I'd just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?

His head was clean-shaven, his weathered face tan,
I soon understood, this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw that night,
owed their lives to these men, who were willing to fight.

Soon around the nation, the children would play,
and grown-ups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom, each month and all year,
because of Marines like this one lying here.

I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve, in a land far from home.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and I started to cry.

He must have awoken, for I heard a rough voice,
"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more.
My life is my God, my country, my Corps."

With that he rolled over, drifted off into sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.

I watched him for hours, so silent and still.
I noticed he shivered from the cold night's chill.
So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
and covered this Marine from his toes to his head.
Then I put on his T-shirt of scarlet and gold,
with an eagle, globe and anchor emblazoned so bold.
And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
and for one shining moment, I was Marine Corps deep inside.

I didn't want to leave him so quiet in the night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
But half asleep he rolled over, and in a voice clean and pure,
said "Carry on, Santa, it's Christmas Day, all is secure."
One look at my watch and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, Semper Fi and goodnight.


--James M. Schmidt, Lance Corporal, USMC




And:

Don't forget to drop a toy or two in the Toys For Tots barrel. Though the USMC Reserve is in charge, those barrels are stood by active-duty Marines in dress blues. Can't miss 'em. You can make a child's Christmas a little bit brighter this year, with your new, unwrapped toy donation.

Cooking Instead Of Thinking

I don't even want to think about everything that is happening right now, so I'm planning our Christmas menu. Here are three yummy bites for your hors d'oeuvre table:


Marinated Mushrooms

People either love or loathe these little critters. I think they are good as is, or finely minced and added (in wee amount) to a chicken liver pate cracker spread, or stirred into cream cheese.

Rummage through the loose white mushrooms for the tiniest ones they have. Wipe them clean and drop into salty simmering water. Cook gently a scant five minutes. Drain and set aside while you prepare the marinade:

Blend equal parts olive oil and white wine vinegar, in an amount sufficient to cover the mushrooms. Whisk in a little white wine, some minced garlic, salt to taste, freshly ground black pepper, and tiny strips of white onion. Blend and simmer gently until hot. Pour over the mushrooms and cover. Let sit at room temperature until cool. Refrigerate for several days, unless your kitchen is as cold as a meat locker. Stir a couple of times a day, if you can remember to.

After a few days, they will have reached full flavor. Scoop them out with a slotted spoon or fork and serve.



Pineapple Cayenne Lime Refresher

This sweet, tart, spicy treat is as good at Christmas as it is at a summertime luau.

1 fresh pineapple
2-3 limes
a shaker of cayenne (red) pepper

Remove the top, bottom and rind of the pineapple. Cut into strips and remove core sections. Cut trimmed pineapple pieces into serving-sized chunks. Chill. When time to serve, squeeze lime juice over pineapple pieces and sprinkle with cayenne. Be sure to use a serving tray or dish with sides, as the juice will get everywhere otherwise.


Best Bourbon Balls By Far

I've loved these special little treats since I was a tiny little Savage Chef. Just remember that you must be patient, and allow them to age before you eat them!

8 oz. melted semisweet chocolate
1/4 c. light corn syrup (Karo)
1/2 c. Kentucky bourbon (I like a mellow one, such as Maker's Mark)
approximately 55 vanilla wafers, crushed (use rolling pin or small food chopper)
3/4 c. confectioner's (powdered) sugar
1 c. finely chopped walnuts (I give the chopped walnuts a quick whirl in the mini chopper)

Blend all the above ingredients, and let stand about 30 min. The mixture will get very, very stiff. Scoop out little balls of it and roll them in more confectioner's sugar. Then put them away in a covered container with confectioner's sugar to cover and leave them alone for at least a week, except for an occasional shaking to make sure they're well covered with the sugar.

I Love a Parade

So, it was the annual Holiday Parade time in beautiful downtown Tumbleweed Junction once again. Unfortunately, your Savage Reporter could not attend, as she had urgent business elsewhere.

So of course, mad happenings ensued. As the celebrants assembled to march, a local loony decided to see what his SUV could do. Raymond Mendoza took his Chevy Blazer for a spin, first slamming into a bank building before crashing into a stop sign. He did not heed the sign, preferring to plow onward, clipping the front of a beautiful, mint condition 1963 Chevy Impala SS. The owner of the Impala, one Jesus Serna, was not pleased. Nope, he was for damn sure not. He exited his vehicle and leapt onto the Blazer and reached inside to...contact Mendoza. Apparently, Mendoza panicked, since he sped up, reaching an estimated speed of 50 mph as he dragged Serna along the pavement. Serna, understandably peeved, attempted to bite Mendoza (in an attempt to get him to slow down, he said). Sadly, his attempt was in vain. As Serna's knees were rapidly losing skin, he let go of the Blazer, falling to the roadway. Fortunately, he was not seriously injured. Police officers at the scene estimate that Serna was dragged 1,300 feet. Way to go, Ray! That's a Tumbleweed Junction record!

Moving right along, Mendoza, still at the wheel of the Blazer, made a U-turn and headed for the staging area of the holiday parade. After demolishing a wooden barricade and frightening the assembled paraders, he eventually came to a stop in a nearby field. Witnesses reported smoke coming from the SUV. (Well, I would guess so.) Mendoza was arrested "without incident." Okey-dokey. Personally, I would have kicked him in his dainty bits, but that is just me. (There is a legitimate reason why I cannot carry firearms in 47-1/2 states, but never mind.)

I would just like to state here that if you ever want to experience something even remotely resembling excitement in Tumbleweed Junction, first check to make sure that the Savage Chef is out of town. This is not superstition or rumor; it is fact. And try the veal at Datillo's. It is excellent.