Special Features
SUgar Cookies two ways
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Cheap DIY Christmas Gifts
Valerie Mecha
Snowman Hot Cocoa Container
Holiday Mugs
Money Tree
Special assistance from Miranda Mecha
Special assistance from Miranda Mecha
Snow
Leo Espinoza
As the snow flutters down,
I wonder why we complain about it -
about why we complain about the cold,
and then about the heat.
Can’t they see the joy of the kids -
the kids playing in the snow,
making a fort,
making a snowman,
throwing snow balls,
making snow angels,
eating the snow?
I don’t judge,
As long as it’s not the yellow kind.
Snow is the signaling for great times -
time to enjoy family and friends,
time to spend time by the fireplace,
time for Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa,
time for the season of giving,
time to celebrate the new year,
time for a new beginning,
Snow is another reason to be lazy.
Sure there’s shoveling,
However there is still time to be lazy,
Youtube, Netflix, you name it,
it’s time to be lazy for a reason.
Snow also means no school,
Snow days equal fun days ahead,
Snow gives more time to have this fun,
So why don’t we enjoy snow more?
I wonder why we complain about it -
about why we complain about the cold,
and then about the heat.
Can’t they see the joy of the kids -
the kids playing in the snow,
making a fort,
making a snowman,
throwing snow balls,
making snow angels,
eating the snow?
I don’t judge,
As long as it’s not the yellow kind.
Snow is the signaling for great times -
time to enjoy family and friends,
time to spend time by the fireplace,
time for Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa,
time for the season of giving,
time to celebrate the new year,
time for a new beginning,
Snow is another reason to be lazy.
Sure there’s shoveling,
However there is still time to be lazy,
Youtube, Netflix, you name it,
it’s time to be lazy for a reason.
Snow also means no school,
Snow days equal fun days ahead,
Snow gives more time to have this fun,
So why don’t we enjoy snow more?
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C.H.R.I.S.T.M.A.S
Alexis Torres
C is for the candy we receive in our stockings from St.Nick
H is for the Holly Jolly spirits presented
R is for the reindeer we hear on the roof of our homes on Christmas night
I is for the icicles hanging from out windows
S is for the snowball fights
T is for the traditions each family has
M is for the mistletoe that brings loved ones closer
A is for the angels we hang on our trees
S is for Santa Claus sliding down our chimneys
🌲Merry Christmas🌲
H is for the Holly Jolly spirits presented
R is for the reindeer we hear on the roof of our homes on Christmas night
I is for the icicles hanging from out windows
S is for the snowball fights
T is for the traditions each family has
M is for the mistletoe that brings loved ones closer
A is for the angels we hang on our trees
S is for Santa Claus sliding down our chimneys
🌲Merry Christmas🌲
What Happened in India
Corinne Kronschnabel
Author’s Note
This creative writing piece is the result of an experiment that I wanted to conduct with myself. For the past year and a half, I have been stuck in a massive writer’s block. Compare it to a black hole that just sucks up all your motivation and ideas. I think this occurred because I have the tendency to judge my work too hard, and move onto another piece before finishing the last one. So I decided to do something different in order to get out of this rut. Instead of typing - which is how I usually write stories - I initially hand wrote this story. I even drew little pictures to go along with it. And the whole time I was writing it, I didn’t go back to add anything or edit a single piece of it. I utilized stream of consciousness and kept on writing without thinking too hard about where the story was going to go (I have a tendency to overthink my writing a lot). I ended up having a lot of fun, and I’m satisfied with the story that resulted. I may even continue it. So here is my experimental writing piece, “What Happened in India.”
WARNING: This story contains mature themes.
This creative writing piece is the result of an experiment that I wanted to conduct with myself. For the past year and a half, I have been stuck in a massive writer’s block. Compare it to a black hole that just sucks up all your motivation and ideas. I think this occurred because I have the tendency to judge my work too hard, and move onto another piece before finishing the last one. So I decided to do something different in order to get out of this rut. Instead of typing - which is how I usually write stories - I initially hand wrote this story. I even drew little pictures to go along with it. And the whole time I was writing it, I didn’t go back to add anything or edit a single piece of it. I utilized stream of consciousness and kept on writing without thinking too hard about where the story was going to go (I have a tendency to overthink my writing a lot). I ended up having a lot of fun, and I’m satisfied with the story that resulted. I may even continue it. So here is my experimental writing piece, “What Happened in India.”
WARNING: This story contains mature themes.
The toaster was faulty. He has known for a while that it was at the end of its lifespan. He doesn’t understand the mechanics of a toaster, but he does know that if a bagel comes out completely burned after only toasting for two minutes then something is wrong. His roommate thinks it’s fine. “It’s fine!” he says as he smothers a blackened square with butter and tops it with an over-easy fried egg. “It’s fine!” It’s not fine. He can’t live like this. “I can’t live like this,” he thinks to himself one morning, and that is how he finds himself walking down the street with a toaster under his arm. “Hey Shanna do you want a toaster,” he texts a friend. “No,” she texts back. He arrives at her house. Amber bottles litter the front yard. Shanna is sitting on the porch couch, a blanket wrapped around her head and body, Winnie the Pooh sunglasses on her face. |
|
It starts to rain.
He sits down next to her. She eyes the toaster.
“Why are you trying to give me a toaster?”
“Why are you wearing Winnie the Pooh sunglasses?” He deadpans.
She pushes them up on her nose. “They’re my sisters.”
“Doesn’t your family live in Nevada?”
“Uh-huh.” She folds her legs under the blanket. “Why are you trying to give me a toaster.”
He shrugs. “Cuz I don’t want it anymore.”
“Does Benji want it?”
He waves his hand. “He’ll be fine without toast for one morning. Besides, we need a new one.”
“So you’re giving me your old toaster.”
“Yup.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
“You are very welcome.”
A shout and a curse comes from the inside of the house. A girl comes stumbling through the front door, pulling her pants up her legs. Shanna and him stare at her as she struggles to put her shoes on. She lets out a frustrated sigh, deciding to forgo the shoes. She notices the silent figures watching her as she’s digging her keys out of a tight pocket. She nods to them.
“Shanna, Xander.”
Shanna nods back. “Stephanie.”
Stephanie looks at the toaster on Xander’s lap. She opens her mouth, pauses, then closes it, shaking her head. “I don’t even want to know.” She walks to her car and drives away.
Xander raises an eyebrow. “Stephanie Terrence?”
“Yu-p,” says Shanna, popping the -p. “And there’s more where that came from.”
“Huh.” He stands up. “I’m going to put this inside.”
“Go for it.”
The windows are open but the smell of smoke still permeates through the house. Xander coughs as he sets the toaster on the kitchen table, which is covered in cigarette butts and more empty bottles. A shattered ash tray rests peacefully on the floor.
He bends over, carefully picks up the ceramic pieces, and tosses them into the garbage can under the sink. They clink against something as they land. An empty bottle of Fireball.
He hears shuffling feet and looks up. It’s Shanna. The blanket - which he now notices is a nauseous pink and green - still shrouds her body. The glasses are off. Her eyes look horrid, a clash of red and blue.
“Did you drink a whole bottle of Fireball?” he asks.
She flops on the living room couch, covering her eyes with her arm. “Nah. But Jules did.”
Xander walks over, pushes her feet aside, and sits down. “Where is she?”
Shanna points up. “In my room. It’s warmer in there so she can sleep better,” she adds.
“Mm.” His leg starts jigging. “Will she be okay?”
“Sure. You know Jules. Even if it’s Fireball she’ll come down in half an hour and be completely fine. Then she’ll start talking about existential crap or something.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. She acts more drunk when she’s hungover, and more hungover when she’s drunk.”
“Mm.”
They sit. Rain pat-patters against the house. Xander starts thinking about Jules. They were pretty good friends in high school. Both music nerds. Both into sports. She played rugby - could probably bench press a football player. He played golf. She teased him endlessly about it. “Oh Mr. Rockefeller we absolutely have to hit some balls this weekend!”
He didn’t even know if Rockefeller played golf.
Jules was the reason he met Shanna - freshman year of college the two girls were roommates. Then more.
They all graduated, more or less. Life got busy. Shanna is an event planner now - go figure. He does programming out of his house for some decently large companies. Benji is still trying to figure some stuff out. Jules on the other hand spent three years in India right after graduating. She just got back a few weeks ago. He’ll have to ask her how it was. He has never travelled, himself. Only left Wisconsin once to go visit his mother’s aunt, but that was it.
Shanna puts her foot on his leg, halting the bouncing motion. She takes a hair tie off of her wrist and hands it to him. “Here.”
Xander takes the purple band, stretching it with his hands. “Thanks.”
He’s a fidgeter - has been since middle school. Messed up his golf swings sometimes.
“Do you want a drink or something?” Shanna asks. “I don’t have any beer left, but I have some kid-friendly drinks.”
“Ha! Sure! Show me what’cha got.”
Shanna slowly sits up, gripping her head and frowning as she does so. She shuffles over to the fridge, taking tiny steps like a ninety year old that’s scared to fall just from walking a few feet. Xander is right behind her, and peers over her shoulder when she opens the fridge.
Jerry’s Root Beer. One of the only sodas with a cap that you can’t twist off.
“Bottle opener. Left drawer,” Shanna says.
Xander opens said drawer. “It’s not in here.”
Shanna hums, closing the fridge and setting a soda bottle on the counter. She looks at the fridge door. “The magnetic one is gone too… what the hell.”
“Juliet took them.”
Shanna jumps and Xander almost keels over. It’s just Jules, though. She’s standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her arms casually crossed. There’s ink there that Xander has never seen before.
“Juliet?” he asks.
“Megan Munroe,” Shanna clarifies. “Ever since we found out that she acts in Shakespearean plays in her free time, we’ve called her that.”
“We should call her Klepto,” Jules huffs. She walks up to Xander and lightly punches him in the shoulder. “Nice to see you again, big guy.”
“You too. How was India?”
“Hot.” Jules stares at the soda bottle. “I have an idea.”
“It better not involve slamming the head of the bottle against the counter to make the cap pop off,” Shanna says.
Jules waves her hand and jumps to sit on the counter. “Oh no. It’s a lot more dangerous.”
Shanna rolls her eyes.
Jules grabs the soda bottle and places it against the counter between her legs so that the lip of the bottle cap hooks on the edge of the counter. “Xander, hold onto it.”
He wraps both his hands around the fat part of the bottle.
Jules brings her knees up to her chest and places her socked feet on Xander’s forearms.
Xander swears that if Shanna’s eyebrows could go any higher they would disappear into her hairline.
“You stay as still as possible, Xander,” Jules says. “I’m going to kick your arms, and the cap is going to pop off.”
“Jules, oh my god, that isn’t going to work,” Shanna exclaims.
Jules just winks at her. “Trust me darling. It will work. I’ve done it before.”
“Oh, and that totally makes me feel better.”
Xander tries really hard to keep himself from laughing. “Let’s do it Jules.”
“Hell yeah!” She fist pumps. “Make sure you brace yourself though, or else you’re gonna fly back.”
He nods, shuffling his feet into a good position. “I’m ready.”
Shanna covers her eyes.
Jules kicks, both feet connecting with Xander’s forearms, just as a flash streaks through the windows, lighting up the whole room as thunder cracks across the sky.
The bottle cap goes flying, along with half the contents of the bottle. The lights go out.
“Holy crap!” Jules yells, scooting back on the counter so the soda doesn’t spill on her.
“Jules!” Shanna groans as the already grime covered floor gets even dirtier.
“It’s an omen, darlings!” Jules proclaims, hopping off the counter. “And a positive one at that!”
“I don’t consider the power going out to be a positive omen,” Shanna says.
Xander’s phone rings. It’s Benji, probably wondering where the toaster disappeared to. He answers it. “Hey what’s up?”
“Holy crap, holy CRAP,” is all Benji says.
“Benji? Are you okay?”
“First the toaster goes missing, and then a freaking tree comes through the ceiling! Holy crap!” Benji yells.
“W-Wait, what? A tree?”
“We have a hole in our ceiling, dude! I’m getting a free shower in the living room, courtesy of mother nature!”
“Holy crap,” Xander echoes. “Do you want me to come back? I’m at Shanna’s.”
“Yeah you should get back here - start packing up your stuff before the house floods or something,” Benji says. “Jeez dude, it’s crazy. One minute I’m watching TV on the couch, and the next thing I know I’m in an episode of Treehouse Masters.”
Xander starts heading for the door. Jules and Shanna follow him, confused. The soda is forgotten.
“Make sure you call Ms. Malie,” Xander instructs. “She’ll handle it.”
“Okay. Okay. See you in a bit.” Benji hangs up.
Xander signs, putting his phone in his pocket.
“What happened?” Shanna asks.
“A tree - it must’ve been struck by lightning - just made a hole in our house,” he answers.
Shanna’s eyes go wide. “Oh my god.”
Jules puts her arm around Shanna’s shoulders. “Do you two have a place to stay?” she asks. “That you can hang at while it gets fixed? Cuz you can’t live in a holey house.”
“I really don’t know,” he says.
Jules’ face lights up. “You can stay here! Wow, I was right about the positive omen thing.”
“I can hardly see how a tree crashing into their house is a good thing,” Shanna mutters.
Jules places her hands on Xander’s shoulders. “Xander, I haven’t seen you in three years. This is a sign. We need to reconnect, make up for lost time. You and Benji are going to stay here while your house gets fixed. There is plenty of room, so don’t worry.”
“U-Um. Okay,” he says.
“Now go home, grab the eggman, and get back here ASAP.”
“Okay, um-”
Jules opens up the front door and pushes him outside. “See you in a few hours!”
Huh. Okay.
As he walks home, rain soaking down into his bones, he realizes that he has never seen Jules that exuberant before. Ever.
Damn. He wishes he knew what happened in India.
He sits down next to her. She eyes the toaster.
“Why are you trying to give me a toaster?”
“Why are you wearing Winnie the Pooh sunglasses?” He deadpans.
She pushes them up on her nose. “They’re my sisters.”
“Doesn’t your family live in Nevada?”
“Uh-huh.” She folds her legs under the blanket. “Why are you trying to give me a toaster.”
He shrugs. “Cuz I don’t want it anymore.”
“Does Benji want it?”
He waves his hand. “He’ll be fine without toast for one morning. Besides, we need a new one.”
“So you’re giving me your old toaster.”
“Yup.”
“Wow. Thanks.”
“You are very welcome.”
A shout and a curse comes from the inside of the house. A girl comes stumbling through the front door, pulling her pants up her legs. Shanna and him stare at her as she struggles to put her shoes on. She lets out a frustrated sigh, deciding to forgo the shoes. She notices the silent figures watching her as she’s digging her keys out of a tight pocket. She nods to them.
“Shanna, Xander.”
Shanna nods back. “Stephanie.”
Stephanie looks at the toaster on Xander’s lap. She opens her mouth, pauses, then closes it, shaking her head. “I don’t even want to know.” She walks to her car and drives away.
Xander raises an eyebrow. “Stephanie Terrence?”
“Yu-p,” says Shanna, popping the -p. “And there’s more where that came from.”
“Huh.” He stands up. “I’m going to put this inside.”
“Go for it.”
The windows are open but the smell of smoke still permeates through the house. Xander coughs as he sets the toaster on the kitchen table, which is covered in cigarette butts and more empty bottles. A shattered ash tray rests peacefully on the floor.
He bends over, carefully picks up the ceramic pieces, and tosses them into the garbage can under the sink. They clink against something as they land. An empty bottle of Fireball.
He hears shuffling feet and looks up. It’s Shanna. The blanket - which he now notices is a nauseous pink and green - still shrouds her body. The glasses are off. Her eyes look horrid, a clash of red and blue.
“Did you drink a whole bottle of Fireball?” he asks.
She flops on the living room couch, covering her eyes with her arm. “Nah. But Jules did.”
Xander walks over, pushes her feet aside, and sits down. “Where is she?”
Shanna points up. “In my room. It’s warmer in there so she can sleep better,” she adds.
“Mm.” His leg starts jigging. “Will she be okay?”
“Sure. You know Jules. Even if it’s Fireball she’ll come down in half an hour and be completely fine. Then she’ll start talking about existential crap or something.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. She acts more drunk when she’s hungover, and more hungover when she’s drunk.”
“Mm.”
They sit. Rain pat-patters against the house. Xander starts thinking about Jules. They were pretty good friends in high school. Both music nerds. Both into sports. She played rugby - could probably bench press a football player. He played golf. She teased him endlessly about it. “Oh Mr. Rockefeller we absolutely have to hit some balls this weekend!”
He didn’t even know if Rockefeller played golf.
Jules was the reason he met Shanna - freshman year of college the two girls were roommates. Then more.
They all graduated, more or less. Life got busy. Shanna is an event planner now - go figure. He does programming out of his house for some decently large companies. Benji is still trying to figure some stuff out. Jules on the other hand spent three years in India right after graduating. She just got back a few weeks ago. He’ll have to ask her how it was. He has never travelled, himself. Only left Wisconsin once to go visit his mother’s aunt, but that was it.
Shanna puts her foot on his leg, halting the bouncing motion. She takes a hair tie off of her wrist and hands it to him. “Here.”
Xander takes the purple band, stretching it with his hands. “Thanks.”
He’s a fidgeter - has been since middle school. Messed up his golf swings sometimes.
“Do you want a drink or something?” Shanna asks. “I don’t have any beer left, but I have some kid-friendly drinks.”
“Ha! Sure! Show me what’cha got.”
Shanna slowly sits up, gripping her head and frowning as she does so. She shuffles over to the fridge, taking tiny steps like a ninety year old that’s scared to fall just from walking a few feet. Xander is right behind her, and peers over her shoulder when she opens the fridge.
Jerry’s Root Beer. One of the only sodas with a cap that you can’t twist off.
“Bottle opener. Left drawer,” Shanna says.
Xander opens said drawer. “It’s not in here.”
Shanna hums, closing the fridge and setting a soda bottle on the counter. She looks at the fridge door. “The magnetic one is gone too… what the hell.”
“Juliet took them.”
Shanna jumps and Xander almost keels over. It’s just Jules, though. She’s standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her arms casually crossed. There’s ink there that Xander has never seen before.
“Juliet?” he asks.
“Megan Munroe,” Shanna clarifies. “Ever since we found out that she acts in Shakespearean plays in her free time, we’ve called her that.”
“We should call her Klepto,” Jules huffs. She walks up to Xander and lightly punches him in the shoulder. “Nice to see you again, big guy.”
“You too. How was India?”
“Hot.” Jules stares at the soda bottle. “I have an idea.”
“It better not involve slamming the head of the bottle against the counter to make the cap pop off,” Shanna says.
Jules waves her hand and jumps to sit on the counter. “Oh no. It’s a lot more dangerous.”
Shanna rolls her eyes.
Jules grabs the soda bottle and places it against the counter between her legs so that the lip of the bottle cap hooks on the edge of the counter. “Xander, hold onto it.”
He wraps both his hands around the fat part of the bottle.
Jules brings her knees up to her chest and places her socked feet on Xander’s forearms.
Xander swears that if Shanna’s eyebrows could go any higher they would disappear into her hairline.
“You stay as still as possible, Xander,” Jules says. “I’m going to kick your arms, and the cap is going to pop off.”
“Jules, oh my god, that isn’t going to work,” Shanna exclaims.
Jules just winks at her. “Trust me darling. It will work. I’ve done it before.”
“Oh, and that totally makes me feel better.”
Xander tries really hard to keep himself from laughing. “Let’s do it Jules.”
“Hell yeah!” She fist pumps. “Make sure you brace yourself though, or else you’re gonna fly back.”
He nods, shuffling his feet into a good position. “I’m ready.”
Shanna covers her eyes.
Jules kicks, both feet connecting with Xander’s forearms, just as a flash streaks through the windows, lighting up the whole room as thunder cracks across the sky.
The bottle cap goes flying, along with half the contents of the bottle. The lights go out.
“Holy crap!” Jules yells, scooting back on the counter so the soda doesn’t spill on her.
“Jules!” Shanna groans as the already grime covered floor gets even dirtier.
“It’s an omen, darlings!” Jules proclaims, hopping off the counter. “And a positive one at that!”
“I don’t consider the power going out to be a positive omen,” Shanna says.
Xander’s phone rings. It’s Benji, probably wondering where the toaster disappeared to. He answers it. “Hey what’s up?”
“Holy crap, holy CRAP,” is all Benji says.
“Benji? Are you okay?”
“First the toaster goes missing, and then a freaking tree comes through the ceiling! Holy crap!” Benji yells.
“W-Wait, what? A tree?”
“We have a hole in our ceiling, dude! I’m getting a free shower in the living room, courtesy of mother nature!”
“Holy crap,” Xander echoes. “Do you want me to come back? I’m at Shanna’s.”
“Yeah you should get back here - start packing up your stuff before the house floods or something,” Benji says. “Jeez dude, it’s crazy. One minute I’m watching TV on the couch, and the next thing I know I’m in an episode of Treehouse Masters.”
Xander starts heading for the door. Jules and Shanna follow him, confused. The soda is forgotten.
“Make sure you call Ms. Malie,” Xander instructs. “She’ll handle it.”
“Okay. Okay. See you in a bit.” Benji hangs up.
Xander signs, putting his phone in his pocket.
“What happened?” Shanna asks.
“A tree - it must’ve been struck by lightning - just made a hole in our house,” he answers.
Shanna’s eyes go wide. “Oh my god.”
Jules puts her arm around Shanna’s shoulders. “Do you two have a place to stay?” she asks. “That you can hang at while it gets fixed? Cuz you can’t live in a holey house.”
“I really don’t know,” he says.
Jules’ face lights up. “You can stay here! Wow, I was right about the positive omen thing.”
“I can hardly see how a tree crashing into their house is a good thing,” Shanna mutters.
Jules places her hands on Xander’s shoulders. “Xander, I haven’t seen you in three years. This is a sign. We need to reconnect, make up for lost time. You and Benji are going to stay here while your house gets fixed. There is plenty of room, so don’t worry.”
“U-Um. Okay,” he says.
“Now go home, grab the eggman, and get back here ASAP.”
“Okay, um-”
Jules opens up the front door and pushes him outside. “See you in a few hours!”
Huh. Okay.
As he walks home, rain soaking down into his bones, he realizes that he has never seen Jules that exuberant before. Ever.
Damn. He wishes he knew what happened in India.