YAWNY RIVER

            Once upon a tad near bedtime story, nestled midst the mighty oaks on the east bank of the Yawny River, dwelled the humble yet picturesque cottage of the Tess and the Ted. Much was the life of this loving couple like that sleepy little Yawny River, the river of gentle surface, yet deep and chasmic channel. And so it came to pass that Tess and Ted sat perched upon nubuck sofa, not so engrossed in a yesteryear movie.

                        

            "Stop it, Ted!" Tess yawned.

            

            "Stop what?" Ted, the initial instigator of yawn, yawned again.

            "Stop it, stop it, stop yawnnnnnnn-ing." Tess spun yawn of her own. "Just stop." She nudged elbow into companion's ribs.

            Ted mid yawn warned, "Watch it little squirt or you might bruise the rib from which you came." Ted mid giggle yawned again.

            "I may just have to elbow every last one of those yawns out of you!" Tess attempted stifle of both giggle and yawn.

            "How am I to deny my wide open mouth from involuntarily inhaling the air of fatigue?"

            "Me thinks tis more a voluntary betrayal of boredom."

            "What?"

            "You are bored with moi, your most precious wife?"

            "Tess, please don't slip down the slippery yawning chasm of self-pity."

            "Thee protesteth too mucheth like the bird singeth of paradise losteth." Tess splattered lispy lisp of metaphor.

            Ted sat stunned. Did not know whether to laugh or gag. Decided neither was safe. Tess had lost it. He let slip, "You done gone possum eatin' persimmons crazy!" And to make it worse, too late to hide with hand... he yawned!

            "Now that yawn was for sure more a voluntary signal of displeasure to the point of obnoxious distain." Tess trembled like a boiling tea pot, vibrated like a volcano fixin' to spew, buzzed like a rattle snake signaling strike. Then she quietly with tears welling in eyes pled, "All I ever ask for is a little love."

            Ted gathered his Tess close, rubbed her back and shoulders, whispered thru her shag cut auburn hair into ear, "I'm sorry sweet Tess. My yawn was just a hint, just a signal, it's time to go to bed."

            "Now you're talking," Tess batted eyelashes, gave hint of suggestive wink punctuated with what else but fake yawn.

            "Deception by yawn? No fair!" Ted feigned protest.

            "Don't forget the fake tears, dear. Works every time."

            "You little scamp."

            "Yeah."

            "You skunk petite."

            "Yeah, how stinky am I?" Tess wiggled, she giggled.

            Ted smiled, swept up into his arms a certain favorite pest. Made nonstop way to bedroom and to foot of bed, where Squeaky the cat lay catnapping head...

            And pausing at the foot of that bed while still in Ted arms, Tess blessedly said, "Perhaps the most noble motive of the yawn," she yawned, "may just be empathy."

            Ted echoed yawn, whispered warm breath in Tess ear, "What a gift that sharing of light heart, a giggle or two, maybe even a precious oneness."

            "Let us thank the Lord." Tess kissed her Teddy.

            So ends, maybe more so begins our tad near once upon a bedtime story, where dwells the humble yet picturesque cottage of the Tess and the Ted, nestled midst the mighty oaks on the east bank of the not so sleepy Yawny River...

Ecclesiastes 3:1&4...   Psalm 150: 1 thru 6...               

KOOKIE COOKIE

        How many the times have your times been sleepless lullabies of never again? Thus begins a midnight collision, a pajama clad wreck, a bickering banter between two ought to know betters...

        "No matter where! No matter where I hide my chocolate chip pecan cookies, you are like a pig sniffing out truffles!" Tess stirred piggy pie mad. 

        "I was. There they was. Now we are one." The frumpy haired Ted burped, rubbed cookie poochy tummy.

        "You flying pig buzzard!" Tess green eyes flashed. 

        Ted burped again, took mug a milk gulp.

        "You, you always, every time, never falls..."

        "That's fails, Tess."

        "What?"

         "That's never fails, not falls, sweetie." Ted's bushy brow wiggled up and down.

        "And there it is, the little boy plow to..."

        "That's ploy, not plow, Tess." 

        "Ted! I am discomboobulated, befuddled, flustered and, and agitated! Not your normal agitated, but agitated like an overloaded out of balance washing machine on the spin cycle. I mean agitated, not miffed. Agitated!" Running out of steam, Tess huffed then puffed at stray strand of dish water blond hair.

        "That's discombobulated, Tess, not discomboobulated."

        "What! What!!"

        Ted kissed a certain someone's ticklish freckled neck, "I am sorry," he breathed in her ear.

        "Get your pig snout off me!" Tess stifled giggle.

        "Ah, my little truffle petite, the tad of always, the smidgeon of every time, the pinch of never again, does not an eternity make, but our love like a dove, oh so it does."

        Tess kissed a certain someone's lips. "I suppose a girl could do worse than a chocolate chip pecan cookie breath man."

        "I'm a peach," Ted smugulated.

        "And we all know every peach has its pit, Teddy."

        "I think of it as being fruity."

        "Fruity be the operative word," Tess giggled mid kiss.

        "How many the times have our times been sweet lullabies of often when..." Ted pulled Tess tenderly close.

        And the Tess, well the Tess so sealed with bless, "Sometimes always, every time, never fails, conceives love begain again."

        "That's begun, Tessie."

        "But begain just sounds better, Mr. Grampus police."

        "Tess, that's... you are absolutely correct," Ted so said, hugged her tight.

        "Often do I wonder who is the more blessed: forgiver or forgivee?" Tess breathed snuggly sigh. "Besides," she giggled, "I was accusing you of being a pig, when I was the one hiding the cookies."

One forgiven much, loves much. One forgiven little, loves little... Inspired by Luke 7:47 KJV and surrounding scripture from the breath of Jesus.

Garnered from 1st Corinthians 13"4-8 ESV: Love is patient and kind; love does not envy nor boast; is not arrogant nor rude; is not overbearing; is not irritable nor resentful; does not rejoice in wrong doing but rejoices in truth. Love bears all, believes, hopes and endures... Refresh love forever anew...

John 3:16 KJV, For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life...

Love God and love thy neighbor... So does Jesus bless us with the recipe for life as recorded in Matthew 22:37-38.            

        

            

BRISK WHISK WINTER WAY

        Thru brisk whisk winter way drove that Woodie Chevrolet to snow covered alpine chalet, to warm embers hearth, to arms of of love, to kisses soft, to song of brisk whisk winter way.

        Oh, as smoke a puff from chimney rose, those Christmas lights thru windows glowed in that house called home; a home not adrift but nestled in white cloud nest, blanketed picturesque. And as for Ted, well he to self said, "What a blessing this wagon load of gifts a joy, presents for my preggers Tess and soon to be Tess Juniorette, and presents for precious kitty pets Squeaky, Buddy and the Lynx. Even found one for me, a well insulated L.L. Legume tartan plaid Yukon cap, for which did I ever pay in every way far too much." So did the Ted strap cap on, to keep his ears, oh so warm.

        Thus Ted, carol a humming, undertook Woodie unloading. But alas, forsooth, oh my, and aw shucks already, like a stereo turntable turned askew, that too sharp needle came a screeching across vinyl LP noel a carol. For after the laden arms of the Ted negotiated picket fence gate, and his feet had near trod all the way up icy path to front porch steps, and just as the Tess, Squeaky, Buddy and the Lynx out picture window glanced, they witnessed snow boot done gone a slipping and gifts done gone a flipping. Ted's back slapped ice, sent from lungs breath mist into air a freezing, and his head ker-smacked that ice so unforgiving.

        Tess flung open door, cats round her legs did out door swirl. Cradling tummy full a baby, Tess made cautious way to hubby, lifted his cat licked face, "Open those eyes Teddy!" Tess repleaded, "Open those big dopey brown eyes, Theodore. Don't you dare turn this noel a carol into dirge of peril. Think of our little Tess Juniorette, Teddy. Teddy, please say something. Oh, dear Jesus help us..."

            As for Ted, well the Ted did open eyes, although they were tad crossed. And then, and then that's when the after head smacked on ice utterances, an avalanche of guilt laden adages began: "Too-too paid toot-toot tootle-loo, the whole kit and caboodle, the whole ball of wax, the yodel of yarn, the whole shebang, whole schmear, the whole nine yards, the whole shootin match, the full monte, the kitchen sink, the bathroom tub, high noon, rice and beans, extra chips please, the whole enchilada. I paid too selfish much for this dumb tartan plaid floppy eared cap."

            That's when the Lynx felt so guided to give his Pa Pa's face one last slurpy tongue baptism. Ted eyes uncrossed, the tears on Tess rosy cheeks came into focus, and the Ted, well that is when he said, "I know, I paid too much for this silly plaid cap, but Tess did you have to clobber me?" He grinned.

          "You dummy, the super insulated padding of that blessed floppy eared cap saved your noggin. What possessed you to buy it?"

            "Well Tess, it was the strangest thing. In the sporting goods store, passing by this L.L. Legume winter cap display, a still small voice commanded, 'You are going to need this...' " 

            "Just as the Lord sees the situation not yet come, so he also hears the urgent prayer to be," Tess smiled, "for what is time to the Creator of time..."

            "Look at you, all up in that metaphysical ether," Ted grinned.

            "Better metaphysical than needing a medical physical." A wide eyed Tess shook head yes.

            "Sometimes the little slips in life so remind." Ted sat up, got up, helped up his with child Tess. And all went up steps into the warmth of the house called home...

            All... including with straight up tails a twitching, trois bon chats noel a carol with meows a plenty and a purr-ee or three. 

            So ends our little tall tail tale, that so began: Thru brisk whisk winter way, drove that Woodie Chevrolet to snow covered alpine chalet, to warm embers hearth, to arms of love, to kisses soft, to song of brisk whisk winter way... 

            The wise know the reason for the season is the greatest gift of all... JESUS...

            Merry Christmas... for YOU are loved...

            Luke 1:26-35, 2:1-19 the birth of Jesus...

            1st Kings 19:11-13 the still small voice...

            Listen...         

             

            

             

                        

            

                 

TUULI

                "Ours was a night born of the wind," Tuuli breath blew dry desert thru the flame of cafe  candle.

                "Can this movie get any sadder?" Neath askew brow Tess's emerald eyes shouted louder than words. "What a way to spend a Saturday evening."

                On screen at cafe table a gray suited Roark cast lament, "Of all the hearts in all the chests of all mankind, why did you Tuuli, why did you storm into mine?"

                "It's a classic," the love handled Ted defended his all time favorite movie, stuffed gob of popcorn in gullet, wiped salted butter from hand onto gray sweats.

                "You mean classic black and white antique. Tuuli's dress suit is gray, her hat off white, her hair somewhere in between." On the couch the pink and white plaid, pajama clad Tess ran fingers thru brunette shag to freckled nape of neck. Yet, was it boredom only that plowed that same hand into tortilla chips to scoop avocado dip and distractedly dribble green from bowl to lip?

                "Could it be that I trust you, Roark?" Tuuli eyes flashed. "I trust the more I despise you, the more you love me."

                "Save yourself, Roark." Ted teared up.

                "Girly man," Tess nudged Ted shoulder to shoulder.

                "Stop it," Ted choked out.

                "Cry baby!" Tess giggled.

                "A strong man's cry tis the dew of roses!" Ted sniffled.

                "Smell ain't everything, Ted." Tess pinched nose, giggled some more.

                With face of stone Roark dug deep the grave for love, "Did our kiss mean nothing?"

                In no hurry to end his suffering, Tuuli took lingering sip of cabernet sauvignon, answered with wry question, "Tell me, what necessitated your journey," the pupils of her eyes sharpened to rapier point, "your pilgrimage to the desert of my heart?"

                "Thirst," the word rasped from Roark throat.

                "You sought water in the heart of the desert?"

                "I found no water."

                "What did' you find?"

                "A fish."

                "So you see me as a fish out of water?  Do I look like I need saving?" Tuuli's laugh reeks the stench of marooned on shore sun baked eel, stirred by the feasting of gulls.

                "I smell even now the water of oasis." The heart of Roark beats deceit.

                "Roark is one sick puppy, poor baby." Tess adds sound effect puppy whimpers.

                Tuuli slaps Roark face, purrs, "I am a mirage. I am the wind."

                "Why do you hate me?" Roark implores.

                "Like I give you any thought." Tuuli tilts head, torments with mocking laugh, as beyond full lips her inner darkness exposes barren soul.

                Roark is stunned.

                Chin up Tuuli leans in close across table, "Do you see your love reflected in my eyes?"

                "Yes,"Roark breathes, then sees the match struck, sees it incinerate love's reflection and return the eyes of Tuuli to absence of light.

                Tuuli blows out the match, whispers whirlwind of scattered smoke a swirl, "Go... away."

                The dam of Tess false bravado bursts into full kilter squall.

                Ted, amid open sobbing of his own, offers Tess a tissue.

                Tess grabs it, squalls the more, "Give me the whole darn box, Ted!" She slobbers, she sobs, she swears, "Never will I ever let you ever' pick that movie to watch again!" She blows nose. "I mean it this time!"

                And on screen Tuuli's beautiful lips morph to corner of lip snarl, "My only ocean is me!"

                Tess throws empty box of nose wipes at Tuuli's head on TV screen. "Vain evil witch! Self composes no symphony of sympathy..."

                "... yet digs the ore of ego from deep dark mine!!" Ted repeats his part of well rehearsed line.

                Yet with heart sans reason Roark raises sail, "Even now, I see the the voyage anew." His head nods in sway, as if on a boat lifted by lapping white capped waves.

                "I see no ship." Tuuli trembles.

                Roark takes her hand, "Let us sail our ocean of tears."

                Tuuli wistfully withdraws her hand from his, "Dear Roark, who can turn the wind?"

                "Oooooh! I love you, Teddy!" Savagely bawling Tess entangles herself in Ted arms, kisses and slobbers all over his tad less than chubby face and tad more than receding hairline.

                And the Ted , well the Ted so says, "Truly Tuuli missed the boat."

                And into Ted ear, Tess breath breezes, "Thank you Jesus for my love handled tug boat."


In Parting: A life of vanity is but a chasing after the wind... but a shadow under the sun...
(Ecclesiastes 5:16; 2:11; 6:12: 8:13)

The whole duty of us all: Love God... Love one another...
Jesus two commands in Matthew 22:36-40. 

And as to the question, "Who can turn the wind?" The answer is in Mark 4:35-41 KJV.



                                 

FIRST TOUCH

                "Personality prickly as desert cactus, skin soft as eiderdown, too wild to tame, too soft not to touch." So tugged Ted's heart toward trouble and love in that not so much by chance crowded church pew seating.

                And in that crowded pew neath God Is Love t-shirt sleeves, the bare arms of Tess and Ted first time touched, a touch, a spark not of coincidental static electricity, but a spark heavenly planned. Thus spilled out lips of the Ted into Tess ear, "Jesus loves you," he whispered, "and so do I."

                More than a few next them snickered.  Even the Sunday school teacher smiled.  Seemed they all too knew before the two, the inevitable had come to bear for the bare armed pair.

                But my oh my how Tess flushed, recoiled in maiden blush, raised porcupine quills. Yet grasping heavenly gravity, she cocked her head, more than glanced at the petrified Ted, noticed he too blushed bright pink red, as he bashfully stared straight ahead.

                By the time Tess shoulder bumped Ted to turn his eyes to hers, the teacher had stopped teaching, every eye eyed them, and fadingly a frowned, Tess ignored them all, "Just how do you love me?" Words of honey spilled from Tess lips.

                And oh how Ted breathed, "Like Jesus loves the church," as his almond eyes danced in the dream of her emerald eyes trance.

                Thus did Tess slide arm of eider down round the arm of Ted; and the corners of her plush pink lips raised up to heaven and matter of factly said, "Thank you Jesus."

                "And that my precious sons and daughters," to kiddos huddled on and round well worn leather couch in front of warmth breathing hearth, "that," Ted attempted to finish story of first touch tradition, "that is how your Mom and Dad were so led to wed, and I might add have six little Tess and Teds.

                "But you left it out Daddy," little Tess Ana reminded.

                "Yep, you did," in unison Tess Bess, Tess Colette, Ted Red, Ted Ryan and Tim Ted chimed in.

                "We want to hear bout Mommy again," Tess Ana, hands on hips postured like her Mom in prickly moments sometimes did.

                 Tess snuggled closer to hubby on couch, hugged Ted arm tighter, and eyes into eyes of husband began that at least once a year said. "What a dilemma, two teenagers in love just about to graduate from good ole Liberty High and bound off to college 1,221 miles apart..."

                "What to do? What to do?" Kids in unison sighed well rehearsed, heart felt part.

                "We prayed," Ted nodded, "and listened, and obeyed, and what we did was not the wisdom of the world."

                "And not at first what our parents thought best." Tess gave side of lips smile.

                Ted added, "Although, through prayer of their own the financial savings and wisdom of our decision dawned on them.  For you see although our decision was not for everyone, praying to God and listening is."

                "Community college." Tess smiled. "After researching which four year colleges our required prerequisite courses would transfer to, it just made blessed sense to our parents too."

                "Boring!" Little Tess Ana added healthy, "Hmmmph!"

                "Yeah, tell us about that romantificated part," Tim Ted tee-heed.

                "The romantificated part!" So cued the rest of Tesses and Teds.

                Ted began, "It was a dark and stormy night..."

                "No it wasn't!" Tess Ana pouted. "Quit fooling round Daddy. Tell it right."

                "Twas a dark and stormy night, that your Dad to be proposed to me under that weeping willow on that cliff..."

                Tess rebooted Ted with elbow. The kids giggled.

                The rebooted Ted then said, "Lolling neath that picnic tree, from poignant to evocative, to reminiscent, to blessed, I said to my Tess, "You are the fuzziest little peach ever rubbed to cheek. To which your Mom to be replied..."

                "...I am your peach, you are my tree." Tess completed now line of tradition.

                And just like that time of not so long ago, the Tess and the Ted kissed a kiss, heavenly planned.

                To which little hands on hips Tess Ana observed, "What I'd like to know is why every time you two get that silly look in your eyes and kiss, we are blessed with another little Tess or Ted in about nine months.  Every time it's the same old thing, Another Tess or Ted will make seven."

Can we even imagine the newly created on earth first woman and man's very first touch? (Genesis - Adam & Eve)

Proverbs 3:5-8 KJV: 5)Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. 6)In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths. 7)Be not wise in thine own eyes: fear the LORD and depart from evil. 8)It shall be health to thy navel, and marrow to thy bones.

Jeremiah 29:11-12 KJV: For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. 12)Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you.


       

         

             
                     

OOT N ABOOT

                "Owl in water," Tess sat up in tent sleeping bag, lips echoed mist of dream, "Owl in water..."
             
                Ted, gathering her close, comforting spoke, "Remember your favorite Inuit philosopher, Overt Avert once obviated, 'Why worry about nothing, before nothing happens'." Thus wrapped in loving arms a smiling Tess fell deep asleep, while Ted, well the Ted's mind wandered until guided to wonder, that old Inuit had paraphrased a certain Galilean of many centuries prior.  Then the Ted, he rested too.

                So it came to pass on a morning tad less than eerie, yet bit dark damp and dreary, a mist not quite in focus chilled the banks of the Sabinal, a river of hill spring beginning and underground disappearing.  And thus o'er bed of stone did gentle water a ripple, so raise riddle within the rising mist, casting veil o'er vale hidden, hidden tween hills below...

                In the mist on a log by the campfire, clad in trendy Grinn n Barrett brand khaki shorts, knee high hiking socks, boots and light green hoodies, Tess and Ted sat bit less than semi-aware of the supernatural swirling about them.  A too early risen Tess struggled to open eyes a squint, raised left eyelid only to have right lid fall closed.  With hand she vigorously ruffled already sleeping bag tussled hair, thus stimulating green peepers to almost simultaneously half open.  Her first focus spied the Ted pouring last coffee driblet into mug.

                "Don't you dare drain all the bean!"

                "For my angel," Ted poked coffee mug in Tess direction.

                Tess reached for it, missed.

                Ted steadied her hand, placed mug ear tween her fingers.

                "Eh, thanks ol' man." Tess breath stirred the mist. "Eh, I seem to be aboot a few trees shy a the meadow this morning."

                "Eh," Ted teased the recently all things Canadian obsessed Tess, "I hear the one too many Canuck wilderness specials stirrin' oot n aboot your Texas twang." He snickered.

                "Quit it!" Her Canadian accent crumbled. "At least I know how to have fun."

                "Yes you do. You are the very essence of fun my precious petite queen." Ted should a stopped there, mumbled under breath, "Aboot as much fun as a Yukon grizzly roused from hibernation."

                "What! What did you say, Theodore!"

                "I said you are precious and I love you, and I have..." Ted reached into green hoodie, retrieved tight little roll, unfurled bright red distraction, "I have a wee tee for my petite queen."

                "I may be little, but I be mighty, Ted boy, and don't you forget..." Distraction took root. "Wow, a blow me away hot red t-shirt with LOST MAPLES across the top, and below a big ol' red  maple leaf set in splotch of antique white.  Not exactly the glorious Canadian flag, but wow, thank you Teddy." Tess squirmed out of hoodie, held up arms. "Help me put it on!"

                While threading her arms and head thru t-shirt, Ted explained, "I picked it up yesterday just past the entrance at the park store." He smiled, patted himself on the back, silently thought, "That old distraction trick works purd-near every time."

                "I see that smug mug, Ted.  It's plastered all over that possum eatin' sweet tatters grin of yours. I am all too familiar with that little boy distraction ploy.  You better thank Jesus, I've a patient and forgiving heart."

                "Of patience and forgiveness," Ted scooted closer on log, "though the tree root be bitter," his warm breath teased freckled nape of neck, "the fruit be sweet." The kiss raised Tess goosebumps mid giggles.

                "Stop it, Teddy!" Tess crinkled neck. "Stop it... some more." She raised chin, exposed sweet spot.

                Ted lips barely brushed her throat when...

                Tess eyes refocused, "Hey, wait a minute. I recall somebody promising me, like, like a little bit of Canada heaven in Texas."

                Ted tried moving closer.

                "Uh-uh, so where is it? Where is this spectacular picturesque scenic beauty that you promised? And, is this fog, mist, or whatever it is; is it ever going to lift?"

                Ted stood, took Tess by the hand, helped her up, re-donned her in hoodie, lead her thru path a mist.

                "Uh," the mist coiled round Tess ankles, "are you sure about this?" The toe of her boot met solid rock.

                "Seems the steps up the cliff have found us." Ted breath puffed smoke. "Hang on to the back of my belt with one hand and the railing with the other. Hewn out of rock the steps to near heaven are sure, but by mist made wet and slippery."

                "Steps to near heaven?" Tess eyes widened. "Eh, aboot that, uh, I know that I've been aboot a whole whack a ice queen, to use a Canuckism," she took tentative step, "but I sure hope this cliff doesn't terminate in dead end." She snirkled at her own little joke.

                Many steps later Ted abruptly halted ascent. Tess snuggled up neath his shoulder. Ted reached out into the mist with foot, felt around, "It's flat, the top of outlook cliff no doubt. Got to be a bench up here somewhere." A few cautious steps in, "Ouch, found it." Ted set down on stone bench, guided Tess to his side, hugged her to him, commenced rubbing shin bone.

                "Let me," Tess scooted her hand neath Ted paw, "Let me rub."

                "Oh, thank Jesus for my Sofie," Ted breathed relief.

                "Sofie! Oh, you mean as in Canuck slang, I am your very own unexplainably beautiful sweet woman."

                "Uh... absolutely," Ted gave teasing wink.

                "Eh, does the fact that I can almost see that wink mean the mist is aboot to..."

                And the mist of veil o'er vale, like a scroll rolled away...

                Tess and Ted arose, stood in awe of a morning not eerie, not a bit cold, damp and dreary; stood in focus of the Sabinal, a river of hill spring beginning and underground disappearing, now a river from stone tomb arising. And thus o'er bed of rock did gentle water ripple, as cedar green and maple red set fire forgiving waters.

                 "Owl in water..." Tess lips a smile did re-utter, "Owl in water..."

                As in river reflection the owl a flight swept thru the rose colored sky, across the morning sun, and so echoed praises thru the once Lost Maples hills, "Who, who-who... Who, who-who..."

                And side by side Tess and Ted answered in sweet by and by, "In joy and in peace, so do the hills sing and the trees clap their hands to the glory of our risen Lord and Savior... Jesus..."


Epilogue:

Lost Maples is an actual Texas State Park, where the red cedar, cypress and red maple grow. Lost Maples is one of the few remaining areas in the state where the red maple thrives.

Sabinal is derived from the word sabina, meaning juniper tree. The red cedar is an evergreen juniper with reddish bark. The heart of the red cedar is aromatic wood the color of a rose.

The hills sing, the trees clap their hands:  Isaiah 55:12 KJV (vs 6 thru 11 beautifully explain vs 12)

The owl & praises: Genesis 1:21 KJV & all Psalm 148 NLT

Who Jesus is and what he says about worry: John 1:1-4&14 KJV; John 3:16 KJV; Matthew 6:25-34 KJV

Jesus gives living water eternal: John 4:1 through 42 (reread verses 10 through 14)   KJV 

PawPaw loves you...  Jesus loves you more...


 

             

             

               














               

                 

               

               
  

KISMET

                Hiking long Providence Falls in the hills of lost maples autumn red and gold, the in love two burned like dueling besorexia banjos at play.

                Now, twenty one years later in the light of hearth, the fair haired Tess sits and knits, while the cat in lap Ted reads to his beloved a tale of salty sea:

                      "Be there drift to Kismet, the home of destination?"

                      "Captain, seems no matter turn of sail, Kismet be near."

                      "Aye, even though we be at sea, and Kismet be in Kansas."

                But that was yesterday, a yesterday winnowed in wind away?

                For that very next frumpy house coat and hair a mess Tess morning, "Time to immerse these babies in the sap of maple." By kitchen nook window Tess reached across table for pancake syrup, grasped ghost of air.

                Ted snickered, poured torrent of maple over king sized stack.

                "Give me that, you, you, syrup usurper!"

                Ted thumped bottle bottom to make sure he got every last drop.

                A wintry frost burned in the green eyes of Tess.     

                Yet, the Ted sailed to Kismet, pushed his plate next hers.

                "You stinker," Tess giggled.

                Ted slid his chair near.  An elbow greeted his ribs.

                "Ouch?"

                "Affection is only two letters away from affliction, Ted." Tess semi-simmered, took fork to his king sized, now her queen sized stack.

                "So Tess, I hear you sayin' share my hot cocoa with you also."

                "And for the crepes sweet cream butter," so did she mutter while engulfing pancake bite another.

                Ted scooted butter over, with fork lifted each fluffy snack in stack, inserted glob of sweet pat, wanderingly wondered out loud, "Is polly unsaturated... a dry parrot?"

                Tess mid giggles fought to retain mapley pancake mouthful, cast her own touch and go tongue in cheek, "Me thinks the tracks of loco motive have led to perilous derail." She giggled again. "Plus, are you not semi-literally patting me on the back, and buttering me up too?"

                "Yes sweet Tess, compliments can be the sliest barb of all, but I really do have a penchant for my fluffy little parakeet." Ted teased.

                "Fluffy? As in plump!"

                "Pleasingly."

                "Ted, I swear, you will never taste not one bite of these pancakes!"

                "The fluffier the better and the more to love," Ted winked, opened baby bird beak.

                Momma bird laughed in spite of herself, poked maple dripping worm into baby bird beak. Thus, along with sugar-intoxification, dueling giggles grew.

                "If only such a short stack time were never to taste another never bite," with mouth full of maple Ted smacked..

                "If the if that was...were; what would that if be, but the ifiest if of all..." Tess smugulated mid munch.

                "Aye, the ether of either be a one or another dilemma." Ted agreed.

                "Yet is not the other side of the coin of equal cost?" Tess mused.

                "So should we bee a keeper and ooze honey." Ted schmoozed.

                "Life is short, walk tall," self challenged the height challenged Tess.

                "Identity is more than a look," the love handled Ted agreed.

                "And so should we oft recollect in the never too late... of not a moment too soon," Tess sighed, "that prosperity is but smoke out the chimney... without grace."

                "So be there drift to Kismet, the home of destination," Ted recalled prior night tale of salty sea.

                "Captain, no matter the turn of sail, Kismet be near," first mate Tess harkened.  .

                "Aye, even though we be at sea, and Kismet be in Kansas," together promised the beloved two.

                And so did dueling besorexia banjos at play ensue; 

                And the kisses of kismet sail the sun kissed sea of blue...

                And later that day, past the edge of night, teetering on the rim of sleep, the in each others arms Tess and Ted drew near that Great Tiller of the ship named Kismet...

                "Kismet is a matter of time. Time is the fabric woven by the Word of God." Ted joyfully sighed.

                Tess snuggled close, breathed near ear, "Let us pray to the One who clothes us. Thank the One who by his Word... weaves.''

                  

Epilogue: The Word is Jesus  +++John 1:1-4&14; John 10:27-30+++

Isaiah 55:6 KJV, "Seek the LORD while he may be found, call upon him while he is near."
(When with Jesus in our hearts we ask of God the Father, he, in his time, provides all we need, even the right mate and blessed fate.)

Let not your dust whisper of only vanities under the sun...

LOVE GOD... LOVE ONE ANOTHER...       See the words of Jesus in Matthew 22:35-40)                   

                     

                                 
                .


                          

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. 



               

                 

     

                 
       

             

LULL A PIE

                "Me hackles of umbrage be astir!" With furrowed brow Ted cast wry eye, thru broken crust of chicken pot pie.

                Tess pricked crust of fresh from oven pie, raised fork, with pale rose lips blew to cool tasty hot bit, then asked, "What's got your huffy nostrils in an updraft, Ted?"

                "More disgruntled innards, for my long awaited chicken pot pie be infested with the dreaded kale!"

                "The horror," Tess giggled mid chew, "kale phobia strikes again."

                "I can't help the fact it plugs me up." Ted defended.

                "First of all that was really gross, Ted.  And second that is parsley, not kale."

                "Are you sure?" Ted eyeballed the contested green. "Frilly edges means it's parsley.  Jagged edges means it's kale.  Jagged edges, Tess.  I hate jagged edges!"

                "Taste is the test, Ted boy."

                To mouth fork plied pie crust mixed chicken, gravy and veggie.  Ted tween chews spoke reviews, "Homey... savory... and smooth, no jagged edges, and I might add with a hint of mystery herb."

                "Just a pinch of thyme, Dear."

                Oh, I know that, but this, this pot pie is seasoned with love." Ted took heaping bite, cocked head, gave wink to wife."

                "So, you are trying to make up for criticizing my cooking, smart boy."

                "Oh now Tess, that is just not true, well not entirely true, for are you not the fuzziest little peach ever rubbed to cheek?" Ted smiled. "And I'm not saying that just to gather good graces.  I truly love you, Miss Peach of my heart."

                "So, you got Tess fever, eh Ted," Tess semi-smiled, "but do you really like my chicken pot pie or not!"

                One near hopeless Ted silently prayed, "Help me Jesus," afore he said, "Tess, I can honestly  say your chicken pot pie is epoch."

                "Ted do you even know," Tess rolled eyes, "do you even know what epoch means?"

                "Well Tess, epoch is what a British chicken says when she lays an egg, epoch-epoch-epoch-e..."

                Wide eyed stunned, Tess ceased chewing. "That is inevitably and hypnotically the most stupid thing I have ever heard." She burst out laughing.

                "Really! Stupid! Before I respond to that cutting remark, Tess, I'll give you time to re-coop-perate." Ted wiggled brow.

                "Ted, your infinite trotting out of the caviler is getting tiresome."

                "Caviler? Tess, I have no mounted horsemen."

                "Ted!"

                "Nor do I have any affiliation with the basketball team, nor the singing group."

                "Ted!!" Tess snickered in spite of herself.

                Ted scooted his chair close beside her.  Tess lifted her cheek to receive kissy peck. Snuggling ensued.  And Ted, as thoughtful as Ted, such as Ted is, could possibly be, said, "Tess, do you suppose this is the lull before the calm?"

                "I'm looking at him," Tess clucked epic epoch of her own.

Epilogue:
                In this tad amusing little short story is there a reoccurring pattern of lull-storm-calm? Notice that in lull-storm-calm... the storm is surrounded...

                Please read and give every word breath: Mark 4:35-41 KJV.  So may our storms be surrounded that we 'pass safely to the other side', if we ask our precious Jesus...

             

   

             

                             

MERENGUE MERINGUE

                (Baile de Tarta, Danse de la Tarte, Dance of Pie)

                Tess cast arm to snuggle hubby.  Cast came up empty.  She felt around sheets, half asleep squeaked, "Not again, how many nights in a row does this make?  It's like trying to sleep with a foraging possum."

                Tess flipped to her back. Eyes opened.

                "Night before last I walk into the kitchen and there he is, head stuck in the refrigerator and he says, 'I have watched the sun come up in the east all my life, til this morning it came up in the west.' I just shook my head and gently prodded him, 'Those refrigerator magnets have warped your inner compass, Ted.  It's twelve midnight.  That is the refrigerator light bulb, not the sun!"

                "No way he could possibly top that, right? I mean like no stinking way!  Au contraire, Tess beware.  Last night I flip on the kitchen light and... there he is!  So of course I roll my eyes and gently admonish, 'Alone eating cake in the dark, how sad.' And he looks up at me with those beady little possum eyes and speaks perfect nonsense, 'Hey it's pear cake.  Fruit be healthy.  Plus I'm licking off the icing, so as not to eat it.' I could not make this stuff up, if my life didn't depend on it." Tess chuckled.

                "Lord give me strength to be thankful.  At least I know where he is," Tess sighed. "Actually I can not wait to see what my marauding marsupial is consuming tonight." She rose out of bed and tippy toe toed down dark hallway to the light. She paused in shadow of kitchen door and cast an ear...

                "Awash in a sea of food, and not a bite to eat," Ted whispered dry tide of hunger.

                Cast in green boxers and rumpled royal blue tee, a not so fresh from the midnight bed, tangle haired Ted, whined mid kitchen, as he opened yet another cupboard. "Corn muffin mix, corn bread mix, classic madeleine mix, corn starch, mac and cheese, ravioli, penne, linguini, angel hair spaghetti, and box after box of near every other foreign and domestic pasta know to woman kind."

                With low blood sugar induced frown, Ted closed cupboard, opened the next.  A box fell out, rebounded off his nose into hands. "Booby trapped by a two pound box of not so instant, instant potatoes! What else is in here waiting to attack? Oh yuk, chicken broth and beef broth in waxen boxes, how safe to eat is that and who would want to, followed by disarray of cake mixes galore, never seen so many fudge and brownie mixes in my life, stevia, agave, sugar, powdered sugar, brown sugar, and that's just the front row. Why does Tess buy so much food that needs boiling, baking or otherwise not ready to eat eats? A growing boy needs packaged readiness to survive."

                Bathed in wings of shadow, one sneaky Tess snickered, "Poor helpless baby, talking to himself again, and my oh my how my little ears burn."

                "I need a cookie. Make that cookies plural. Chocolate chip cookies!" Ted wiped saliva from chin with back of wrist, whined the more, "A cookie, a cookie, just one miserably delicious cookie! Come to Papa!" Tide of hunger gurgled roar.

                From shadows, snickers threatened rain of laughter. Tess clamped hand over mouth, thumb over nose.

                "Now I know," near epiphany rumbled, "I know that hording wife of mine loves her chocolate. Where, I say where is my little squirrel stashing her acorns?" Ted under breath pondered.

                Like a squirrel, Tess nose twitched alert.

                "Somewhere a cookie lurks.  Now if I was Tess where would those chocolate acorns be?" Ted opened lower cabinet.

                "Not even close." Tess breathed relief.

                Ted went down the line, left no cabinet unopened.

                Tess confidence soared, her secret stash unexplored.

                "Hmmm, maybe the," Ted laid hand on refrigerator door handle.

                Tess whispered, "So cold, no way Ted boy."

                "Naw," Ted rethought, "not the frig, too obvious, but if I was my cunning little wife," Ted turned to opposite side of kitchen, "the butcher block drawer?"

                "Wrong again, possum boy," Tess breathed relief, but realized the area hubby had not yet foraged steadily grew smaller.

                "Not here, but near, somewhere near, something seldom used, something broken?" Ted amped up his antiquated CRT wire frayed brain til epiphany smoked, "The broken toaster oven!"

                "Oh crud!" Tess meant ever word.

                Ted opened toaster oven door, extracted bag of cookie heaven.

                Tess rushed him from behind, grabbed at bag, missed, then desperately pled in Ted ear, "What do you want more, one cold cookie or one hot cookie wife?"

                Ted took bite of cookie.

                "Ted!!"

                Ted stuffed rest of cookie in mouth, "It's chocolate chip!!" He mumbled inadequate defense.

                Tess bit his ear.

                "Yelp!"

                "Release the cookies!" Tess hissed thru teeth clamped on ear.

                "Never!!" Ted stuffed two more in.

                "Give me," Tess rode his back, "those," she grabbed over his shoulder, "COOKIES!!" She snagged cookie bag.

                Ted held tight.  Bag ripped, cloud of cookies rained.

                Tess screamed.

                Ted slipped on a cookie.

                Both plummeted to black and white kitchen tile floor.

                The entangled two almost caught breath before the giggles set in. Giggles short lived, for Ted reached for cookie a floor.

                "Really Ted." Tess wondered, tried to pout, let out giggle instead.

                Ted put cookie tween teeth.

                "You..."

                Ted teeth wiggled cookie to tempt tease Tess.

                Amid giggles Tess nibbled her way to lips a bliss.

                "No more forever squabbling over cookies." Ted promised tween cookie kisses.

                "The sweet things of this life are meant to be shared." Tess kissy peck agreed.

                "How bout sharing a pie?" Ted had that foraging possum look.

                Pie, pie! We ain't got no stinking pie," Tess chuckled.

                "Yes we do, twenty-four hours a day."

                "The House Of Tarts!"

                "Tween Alabama and Main."

                "Three blocks over on Kirby Drive."

                One short midnight run later, back at kitchen island, Ted pirated command, "Siri, play us a merengue medley."

                "Why do we ever quarrel like squirrels over a nut, when there is pie to be had?" Sweet lemon meringue danced on Tess tongue.

                "Cause at times my little squirrel is a nut." Ted licked lemon meringue from Tess giggling lips.

                And lo, so it was so, round kitchen island, mid midnight Latin merengue sway, Tess and Ted shared fresh coconut encrusted crust, lemon meringue pie, and danced besos, besas, besos merengue maringue, besas, besos, besas dolce melangue.

                "When handed a lemon meringue pie, why slip on a cookie." Tess lips cast giggle in Ted ear.

Epilogue:

LOVE ONE ANOTHER... and stop fussing over the cookies... or if you are a squirrel, acorns...

Seems Jesus said something about that, "A new commandment I give unto you.  That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another." John 13:34 KJV

What did Jesus mean by, "...as I have loved You?" I encourage you to read the book of John in The Holy Bible and attend a welcoming Christian church to learn more about loving.

There are over 435 verses in the Bible about love.