Merry Christmas!

              Merry Christmas Readers! This is not part of the 12 Days of Christmas Blog Link-Up because this post isn't going to be very Christmas-y! But please check out the other bloggers and their blog posts to see what they've been posting if you haven't already!

                Back to my post...I hope you all have a wonderful day celebrating Christ's birth! My Christmas celebrations and such have basically been going on since last Friday! I'm pretty worn out :P But it is a good worn out because I have been having sooooooooo much fun :)
               As a little Christmas "gift" to you all, this is a random description of the O'Neals Log Cabin. I placed this in the second person (rather than the third person view I always use).  I probably should've used third person but I wanted to try using second person. Anyways, it might be a bit confusing for you so I apologize. I think you'll still like it though :) Eventually at the end I change it around so the "you" I am writing about is actually a O'Neal family member...you'll probably figure it out rather quickly.

Obviously this is a bit small for the O'Neals,
but this helps give you an idea of what the cabin looked like

                Deep within the woods of the Black Hills stands an erect cabin. The front of the cabin was the color of dark, weather beaten wood while the back of the cabin had lighter colored and fresher looking wood as if the owner had recently added on. If you knew how many people lived in that cabin, you wouldn’t be surprise that the owner had added extra rooms.

                


                
               Inside the cabin is a grand total of five rooms; two bedrooms, a loft, a washroom, and a sitting room connected to the kitchen. As you walk into the cabin you are right in between the sitting room and the kitchen. First you walk into the sitting room. In this room you see a shelf with some books and some family heirlooms like a vase and a figurine. Beside the shelf and in front of the window stands an elegant black piano. You press down on one of the ivory keys in curiosity; not many families could afford such a luxury as a piano. You ponder that maybe the husband or wife came from a wealthy family who presented them with the piano as a gift or maybe as an inheritance.

                You walk into the center of the room and see two long sofas facing each other. A stuffed chair sits north of the sofas and one rocking chair rests in front of the fireplace. The fireplace is a large stone fireplace. Its rustic appearance gives you a warm feeling within your heart. You crouch beside the hearth and stare at the fire; the orange, yellow, and red flames dance upon a charred log. It gives you a sense of peace just sitting there, warming your body near the fireplace. In your mind, you can see a family sitting around the fireplace at night, trading stories and playing games. You can hear the chattering and the laughter of the children and you can see the contented smiles on the parents’ faces.

                Once you have warmed up, you venture into the room to the left of the fireplace. Inside that room you see eight beds all lined up in a row. The beds are made and the pillows are fluffed and lay neatly on the bed. You turn your head and see two dressers standing on either end of the room. The dresser closest to the doorway had a mirror hanging above it. The room made it evident that a group of girls lived here. Hair bows littered the dressers and a number of dresses hung from the rafters. On one of the beds was a picture a child had drawn and on another bed was a journal that no doubt contained someone’s deepest thoughts and perhaps the name of a lover.

              After the bedroom, you trek into the wash room. The wash room was small and simple, showing how the family couldn’t afford as much but made do and did a fine job of it. You now know your assumption of relatives giving the piano as a gift must be true. A large tub was in the middle of the room where the family took its baths on Saturday nights. To the right was a table where a large white bowl sat full of water. A bar of thick soap and a towel accompanied the bowl. Here, you see, is where the family washed up before supper.

               

                You leave the wash room and head towards the last room. The last room functions as a bedroom. You see a wide bed in the middle of the far wall and a dresser in front of the bed against the opposite wall. A night stand stood on either side of the bed and in the left corner of the room you see a rocking chair with a blanket draped over the back of the chair. To the right you spot a cradle and you peer into the cradle. A smile crosses your face as you think of a young babe who would sleep in that handmade cradle.

                You walk out of the bedroom and go into the kitchen were a huge black stove sits beside a counter top. Over the stove burner is a tall pot full of venison stew. The steam rises from the pot and the scent of cooking meat permeates the air. On the counter are three fresh apple pies in the early stages of the cooling process. Little slivers of steam still rise from the tops of the golden brown crusts. The amount of food you have seen indicates a large family. You continue on and examine the rest of the kitchen. You see a stout ice box on the other side of the kitchen. Within are a pitcher of milk and a tub of butter while the rest is bare.

                You begin walking out of the kitchen and as you do so, you notice the dining table is made out of rich walnut wood. It has some imperfections in it such as scratches and dents. It seems the table has been through many hard times and many good times. You take a moment to count the number of chairs around the table and the number you get is eleven. You are surprised at this number so you count again: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven. Yes, there are eleven chairs. You sigh as the family suddenly returns to their home. You back into the shadows and watch silently as the family takes their seats around the table.

                The patriarch of the family was a tall lofty man with broad shoulders and bulging muscles. He had a head full of rich black hair and a beard to match. He was laughing and grinning from ear to ear, causing wrinkles to appear around the corners of his eyes. In his arms he carried a small child with strawberry blonde curls and blue eyes. The child was beautiful and he was smiling and cooing with glee.

                Right behind the man comes a young woman with chocolate brown hair pulled back into a loose bun on top of her head. Her hazel eyes had a far off look in them like she was thinking about something else. She had trim figure and a gentle smile.

                Another girl who looked nearly identical to the first strolled into the kitchen. She too had the chocolate brown hair. She had blue eyes with mischievous gleam to them but you could see behind the mask. You could tell the girl was hiding pain and sorrow behind her pranks.

                Now two really identical girls sat down at the table. These two were obviously twins. Both had their chocolate hair pulled back from their faces with a barrette. The two were quiet but helpful and had an eagerness to learn more and become more mature; you appreciated that about the two.

                Three little girls took seats after the twins. The first little girl had dark brown hair twisted into pigtails and her eyes sparkled with excitement of something; maybe she knew a secret or she was excited for the apple pie—it wasn’t every day the family got to eat apple pie.

                The second little girl had the same hair style as the first little girl but she was giggling and talking away to the twins. Apparently she was telling a funny story.

                The last little girl had remarkable blonde hair that stood in sharp contrast to her sisters. Her hair hung in thin ringlets around her shoulders as she calmly took her seat by the table. She tried to act normal but you noticed the bulge in the girl’s dress pocket; the girl had smuggled a small animal friend to the dinner table.

                You now decide to leave the house and walk back outside; you don’t want to overstay your welcome. As you hike back into the Black Hills, you pause and look back at that cabin. Suddenly it vanishes from your view and is replaced by an overgrown field. You look away in dismay as reality comes back to you. The cabin is now gone, your husband has passed on, and the children you had once grown to love have left and married their own spouses. You walk away with regret and wish with everything within you that you could go back to those days.

                A tear drips from your face as you know that it is not possible. You disappear into the Black Hills where the spirits of your family live on and you can think of the good times you once had. Your eyes grow heavy and fall closed as a last breath is drawn and you now no longer feel so lonely. You know you will meet your husband and soon you would be joined by your children.



             So, I kinda changed this story into Lillian envisioning all this as she is on her deathbed. I thought maybe this "tie-in" would add emotion to the "story" (I guess this doesn't technically count as a story.)

            Again, Merry Christmas!! Any favorite Christmas traditions that you guys and your families do each Christmas? I'd love to hear from you guys.