For old-timers like me, remember when your favorite television show would be interrupted by squiggly lines and a voice that said, "This is a test of the emergency broadcast system. For the next sixty seconds...."
Well, this is a test of the BryonySeries blog system. I'm about to find out if my parents read the blog.
As children, my sister and I enjoyed coloring, and so we owned voluminous amounts of coloring books. Our favorites--and we had many--were Christmas-themed coloring books.
I can't remember just how young my sister and I were the December we were seized with a sudden inspiration, but certainly young enough to not consider the consequences. We decided to fill several of these books and hang our masterpieces on the paneled walls of the finished basement as a Christmas surprise to our parents.
For weeks, we sat at the round play table in that basement, listening to old Christmas records and coloring, coloring, coloring. We carefully pulled the completed pictures from the binding and tucked them away for Christmas morning.
My sister and I had our own tradition of "playing Santa." We would rise in the middle of the night, gather our presents, sneak through the house to the basement, and descend the dark stairs to the tree.
One year, we actually tumbled down the stairs and, surprisingly, woke no one (which could have been bad if we had broken a leg or our necks). An even earlier year, Santa had brought us makeup and tiny transistor radios, which DID wake up our parents. I can still see my father's furious face, scrubbing makeup off my baby sister at 1 a.m.
This Christmas was no different. After we placed our presents around the tree, we began taping our pictures to the wall. We hadn't gone for before we ran out of tape. No matter. We had plenty of Elmer's School Glue.
The next morning, we thought better of it. While my mother cooked breakfast, we dashed downstairs to remove the zillions of pictures and clear all traces of glue from the paneled walls. No one ever knew...until now.
Well, this is a test of the BryonySeries blog system. I'm about to find out if my parents read the blog.
As children, my sister and I enjoyed coloring, and so we owned voluminous amounts of coloring books. Our favorites--and we had many--were Christmas-themed coloring books.
I can't remember just how young my sister and I were the December we were seized with a sudden inspiration, but certainly young enough to not consider the consequences. We decided to fill several of these books and hang our masterpieces on the paneled walls of the finished basement as a Christmas surprise to our parents.
For weeks, we sat at the round play table in that basement, listening to old Christmas records and coloring, coloring, coloring. We carefully pulled the completed pictures from the binding and tucked them away for Christmas morning.
My sister and I had our own tradition of "playing Santa." We would rise in the middle of the night, gather our presents, sneak through the house to the basement, and descend the dark stairs to the tree.
One year, we actually tumbled down the stairs and, surprisingly, woke no one (which could have been bad if we had broken a leg or our necks). An even earlier year, Santa had brought us makeup and tiny transistor radios, which DID wake up our parents. I can still see my father's furious face, scrubbing makeup off my baby sister at 1 a.m.
This Christmas was no different. After we placed our presents around the tree, we began taping our pictures to the wall. We hadn't gone for before we ran out of tape. No matter. We had plenty of Elmer's School Glue.
The next morning, we thought better of it. While my mother cooked breakfast, we dashed downstairs to remove the zillions of pictures and clear all traces of glue from the paneled walls. No one ever knew...until now.
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