CRACKLING THORNS

                "You missed a spot." Ted was in a pestering mood.

                Scrubbing stubborn spaghetti sauce off pot in kitchen sink, the lovely Tess puffed at stray strand of sandy blond hair dangling over right eye, the green one. "Ted, my patience is running thin."

                "Tess, since when did you become a doctor at a weight loss clinic?"

                "What?"

                "You said your patients are running thin!" Ted cackled, licked finger, touched finger to hip, "Pssst! Am I hot or what?"

                Tess paused scrubber to pot, warned, "Ted, do not thorns cast into a fire crackle and spit? Do you forget I possess heterochromia iridumic eyes, and I am not afraid to use them?" Tess slowly turned head to the left, her blue eye rounded corner, almost came to bear upon the pesty Ted.

                "Not the blue eye, anything but that!" Ted attempted retreat.

                Tess snagged him by the belt above butt.  She reached around with dish water dripping hand, found his chin.

                "Nooooo..."Ted howled.

                By the chin, Tess slowly turned Ted face toward her heterochromia iridumic sea of blue. "Gaze into the blue eye." She commanded.

                "No, no..." Ted squinched eyes tight.

                "Open your eyes," Tess ordered.

                "Green eye, not blue eye! Give me tha-tha-the green eye, paaalezzze!"

                "And why do you fear the blue-blue eye, Teddy?"

                "I don't know." Ted squirmed.

                "Cause the blue eye make you do, what the blue eye make you do, do, do." Tess was enjoying this way too much.

                "Noooo! No dooo, no dooo!" Ted sang like a rat in a trap.

                "Open them eyes," Tess voice faded from bitter to sweet.

                "No, it's a trick."

                "No trick." Tess licked his cheek.

                "Promise," Ted wavered unsure, "Promise the green eye."

                "Promise," sultry voice invited, her tight hold on his chin morphed to caress. Tess felt his tense body relax.

                Ted unsquinched peepers, a muffled, "Arrrrrgg," escaped his lips, as storm tossed waves of blue eye sea tugged him under.

                The kiss was sweet as summer wine and twice as intoxicating. Ted knees near buckled.

                Her lips departed his, traveled long his jaw, up to ear, "What were you saying about washing the dishes?"

                "I don't remember."

                "What?"

                "I don't know."

                "You were declaring that you desire with all your heart to scrub that spaghetti pot for me."

                "I didn't."

                "You said," Tess soft lips and warm ocean breeze breath traveled trail to pulse point tween Ted throat and neck, "you said doing dishes for me is purest joy." Her words vibrated long that tender spot of neck.

                "No, no way did..."

                Lush lips smooched that spot tween throat and neck, set it a tingle.

                "O!" Ted eye lashes beat a flutter.

                Tess raised face, raised the blue eye to bear, to burrow into his mind, sink well to Ted heart, draw forth the joys of unconditional surrender.

                Ted wrapped her in his arms.

                Tess back rested gainst sink counter. She slipped under hubby arm, slid in behind him, by his too much spaghetti inflated love handles, steered him to kitchen sink.  And as Ted began lovingly washing that saucy spaghetti pot, Tess heterochromia iridumic eyes, both the green one and the blue one, pulsed love too.

                And Tess soft lips brushed Ted ear, half chuckled, half purred, "You missed a spot."

EPILOGUE: Why, I say why do we do it? No way to win, and we still do it. Wives simply do not most of the time view a husbands spontaneous aggravation as fun... little boy cute maybe, but not the best of fun. Perhaps we should not dip from the well of juvenile pesterization too often, but just admit we need attention. Yet, even when our kidding fails, I find a kiss to the nape of her neck reaps wifely goosebumps and forgotten vexation.  Oh, and we might every now and then try thoughtfully washing that sauce laden spaghetti pot for our loved one, and thereby avoid the dreaded blue eye of thin patience to begin with.

Ecclesiastes chapter 7 verses 6, 8&9 KJV: 6)For 'as the crackling of thorns under a pot', so is the laughter of a fool: this also is vanity. 8)Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof: and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit. 9)Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry: for anger resteth in the bossom of fools.

Crackling Thorns: Like a fools laughter, thorns crackle and burn too quickly to aid the pot in cooking. Patient finishing is better than prideful beginning.

Mark 10:9 KJV, What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.
       
               

           

                 

                 

STIFF BOOT

                Deputy Dakota kicked boot jutting up thru snow, "Four days frozen, our missing skier."

                "No escape from snowscape," Deputy Quiver cued lonely wolf howl.

                Into sky of dusk, Dakota lifted her eyes to star of wonder, "The Great Spirit."

                And as Dakota and Quiver stared into the heavens, behind them breathed eerie c-r-e-a-k!

                Sideways swept, eyes of deputies met.

                Undercarriage creak grew to groan.

                Deputies turned, saw SUV patrol unit begin unholy slide.

                "The dark one," Dakota hissed.

                Patrol vehicle slide quickened.

                Quiver struggled to run toward it.

                The elder Dakota grabbed his shoulder, "Better it, than you."

                Patrol unit ran out of icy pavement, half way down the gorge exploded, sent wave of concussion up and over gorge rim.  Dakota and Quiver would have been knocked flat had thigh high snow not kept them upright.  A plume of smoke steadily rose from patrol unit below.

                "No radio." Dakota partially unzipped parka, retrieved cell phone, attempted to call in. "No service."

                "Freezing into a popsicle affects my allergies," Quiver breathed dire sardonicism. "We're gonna die!" Quiver zipped top of coat snug round neck, "Cold, so very cold." He pulled hood over head, tugged draw cords tight. "The wind is picking up."

                "No radio. No phone." Snow pelting ruddy face, Deputy Dakota lifted sage eyes to the star, began to chat, yes chat, in unworldly tongue with the Maker thereof.

                Shaking in the cold, fearing death, and tad more than bit unsettled by his partners apparent lapse into insanity, Deputy Quiver looked too upon the star as moments passed moments and moments more... til silence.  His eyes drew to Dakota.  Her chat with the unseen had ended.

                "Jingle."

                Dakota drew smile.

                Quiver cast doubt, "Not real."

                "Jingle, jingle."

                Dakota raised arms, hugged what seemed to be air.

                "Hallucinations of the doomed." Quiver quivered.

                "Jingle - jingle - jingle." Roar of motor.

                Red nose and bolted on antlers poked thru falling snow.

                "A mechanical reindeer!!" Quiver fumbled gun holster.

                Dakota grabbed his arm, "Quiver, it is red nosed snowmobile."

                Quiver reached out, touched nose. "Rescue? Rescued! We are saved!"

                "Ho-Ho-Ho! It appears some are?" Jovial voice pierced falling snow. "Deputies Dakota and Quiver, I presume."

                One tall and humongous figure strode thru thigh high snow like it was vapor.  She plucked up Deputy Dakota from snow drift and swallowed her in one massive bear hug.  She put her down.  The back slapping commenced, abruptly ended with arm length shove and two old friends eye to eye.

                "Chel Pastier, too many moons have passed," Dakota caught breath, "how did you find us?"

                "Well I was perfectly fine and warm tending cabin fireplace, when I felt the presence and heard the quiet speak, 'time to ride, turn dark to light'. On the way the explosion and smoke, meant by the dark one for your demise, instead showed way to go and save you.  But now time is crucial. This is just the beginning of the blizzard.  Let's load up and get back to the cabin or we will be as stiff as that boot sticking up from the snow."

                "We take stiff boot with us.  Hungry wolves near and will eat body." Dakota spoke.

                "No problem!" The massive Chel popped old stiff boot from snow like popping an ice cube from refrigerator tray.

                 As Chel loaded the frozen body aboard sleigh, drawn by red nosed snowmobile, one stunned and unusually quiet Deputy Quiver wondered, "Who, or what, is this woman?"

                "Chel Pastier, world champion lumberjack four years chopping." Dakota smiled.

                "Now I know the world is coming to an end, you never joke," Quiver dared peep nervous chuckle.

                "Deputy training 101, de-escalate the situation, use humor if necessary. You feel better, do you not?" Stone face returned to Dakota, as she and Quiver joined stiff boot body in sleigh.

                "Just hope Chel can find the way back in this blizzard." Quiver doubted.

                "No prob," Chel swung leg over seat, "old Rudy the red nosed snow mobile knows the way.  And if Rudy don't, God does..."

                Soon glow of golden light flowed thru Christmas tree in cabin window, illuminated outside nativity scene in the falling snow.  Chel none too soon ushered in near frozen guests, guests who needed no introduction to fireplace.

                "While you two are warming up, I will secure Rudy, the sleigh and stiff boot's frozen body in the barn." Snow blew in as Chel exited.

                "Thank the Lord for warm hearths and women lumberjacks," Quiver warmed hands.

                "For one woman lumberjack in particular." Dakota added, "Amen!"

                In a short, tad more snow blew in with return of Chel, who promptly offered, "Hot chocolate or coffee?"

                "Hot chocolate!" Voices of two eagerly echoed.

                "Hey, when a body gotta thaw, a body gotta thaw," Chel forecast more than she knew was brewing.

                For hours of night later, what does an icy stiff boot do in the back of a sleigh, behind Rudy the red nosed snowmobile, in one nice warm heated barn? Quote the stiff boot sniffing barn cat, "Mee-oww-le-phew!"

                Twas a couple of hours past midnight, yes it was two, there came a rapping, a not so gentle tapping gainst cabin door.

                "What tha?" Quiver roused first, rose from couch to check cabin door.

                "Do not open," Chel commanded.

                Quiver froze.

                "Could be bear." Dakota joined Chel and Quiver mid floor.

                "Angry hungry bear." Chel grabbed ax from wall.

                "Or maybe not bear," Dakota cautioned.

                And again came a rapping, a not so gentle tapping gainst cabin door.

               Quote the barn cat, "Mee-oww-le-phew!"

                Ax shook in Chel hands, "It is barn cat voice, but not barn cat word."

                "Something trouble." Deputy Dakota drew weapon, beside Chel and Quiver mid cabin floor.

                And there came a rapping, a not so gentle tapping gainst cabin door.

                Quote the barn cat, "Mee-oww-le-phew!"

                "Help!" Hoarse voice rasped thru cabin door.

                "That is not a barn cat word either." Chel lowered ax.

                "That not barn cat." Dakota now understood, re-holstered weapon.

                "Who ever it is, is freezing." Quiver quivered.

                "Not freeze. Unfreeze." Dakota raised arms, hugged what seemed to be air, spoke praising thanks in unworldly tongue.

                Chel opened door.

                In the arms of Stiff Boot, quote the barn cat, "Mee-oww-ee-le-phew!"

                "Contrary to existential and quintessential philosophy, sometimes a stiff boot just needs the proverbial swift kick to get going." Deputy Dakota smiled, added, "For things seen are not made of things that do appear, but by the Word of the Creator."

                "Whut?" Deputy Quiver side eyed patrol partner.

Epilogue:
                Lazarus, alias Stiff Boot, never complained again about his Mom blessing him at birth with that Biblical name. In fact he became an evangelist of sorts.  Old Stiff Boot from that point forward never let opportunity pass without recounting his story, no matter in church or bar, in prison or car, or on streets afar... and especially to family and friends at Christmas.  Christmas, that time of year when carolers appear, singing praises under wonderful star... and hugging far more than the air....

                Leave those stiff boots behind.  Join in the joy of Christmas with every step.  Give Jesus a hug.  He came a long way from home to be born in a manger... because he loves you.

                Hebrews 11:1&3; John 1:1-5.

                John 8:12, Then spake Jesus, "I am the light of the world; those that follow me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life."

Christ Jesus birth and the star: Isaiah 7:14 & 9:6;  Matthew chapters 1 & 2; Luke chapters 1 & 2.

Lazarus: John 11:1-44.