My Favourite Photo of 2011

I can’t count the number of times I’ve said “Have a Happy New Year” to folks I’ve seen during the holiday season.  Was 2011 “happy” for you?  Despite the heartache of coping with the passing of one of my sweet little Yorkies, I can say with confidence that I made some “happy” in 2011. 

If you have to stretch your brain to come up with some happy times from the past year that’s ok too.  I’ve found that one of the best ways to take your “happy times inventory” is to look back at your photos. 

Maybe you don’t take pics but chances are someone you know does and you’re likely in some of those photos.  Check out Facebook.  You’re bound to find yourself in one of your friends’ pics on FB.

Revel in the good times!  Dig deep if you have to BUT COME UP WITH SOMETHING THAT MADE YOU SMILE IN 2011! 

All the very best in 2012 and start making some happy right now!

“Dear George, remember no man is a failure who has friends. Thanks for the wings, Love Clarence.”

I have a wonderful life!  Thank you for being a part of my life in person or online. 

Merry Christmas and All the Very Best in 2012!

~~ Kathryn ~~

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.” — Luke 2:14

All houses wherein men have lived and died
Are haunted houses. Through the open doors
The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,
With feet that make no sound upon the floor.
From Haunted Houses

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“Mother wake up.  Please mother wake up!”
“Leave your mother.  What is it, Eliza?”
Stepping out from the adjacent dressing room, James walked towards his trembling daughter.
“Christopher isn’t here, Father.”
“Has Jonathan talked to the footmen?” 
“Yes, he and Cook spoke with Patrick this morning.  No coaches arrived last night.”
“James, is everyone alright?”  Shivering, Sophia pulled her dressing gown tighter around her waist.  “Eliza?”
“Oh Mother, Christopher isn’t here.”  Reaching for her daughter, Eliza dissolved in tears in her mother’s arms.
“I’ll talk to Jonathan.”  Recognizing the uneasy tone of his voice, Sophia looked helplessly at James.
“He’ll be here, Eliza.  He was probably delayed by the storm.”
Turning, James strode quickly down the lavish staircase to the pantry beside the butler’s sitting room.
“Jonathan, no sign of Christopher?”
“None, Sir.  Patrick and the other footmen set out on horseback at dawn.”
“Tell me what they find, Jonathan,” James replied wearily. 

Visions of last winter crept into his mind.  The fresh snow sparkled on the frosty bay that day.  The sun a brilliant orange fireball blazed in the clear blue December sky.  The sound of skate blades shearing the frozen bay pierced the still morning air.  Skating circles around each other, Eliza and Charlotte heard a voice calling from the edge of the bay. 

“Wait for me!  I’m coming too.” 
Isabelle tiptoed onto the ice.  Unexpected gifts from God for James and Sophia, their youngest daughters were born only minutes apart.  Isabelle picked up speed as she skated towards her sisters.
“Catch me if you can!”

Merrily twirling together on the ice, Eliza and Charlotte heard the scream.  The bay ready to snatch its next victim into the frigid abyss cracked under Isabelle’s feet.  Trying to keep her head afloat, Isabelle thrashed frantically in the icey water.  Her freezing hands slid off the edge of the ragged hole as she tried desperately to scramble out of the deathly cold water.

“Isabelle!” Charlotte screamed.
“Help!!!” Eliza screamed while shooting across the bay, her skates barely grazing the ice below.
Patrick heard the shouting and realized what had happened.  Grabbing a thick rope and shouting to the other footmen he raced across the snowy ground and onto the bay.
“I can’t see her!” screamed Charlotte.
“Isabelle!!!” Patrick shouted.
The men lay on the frozen bay holding each other’s ankles as Patrick tossed the end of the rope near the icy cavern.
“I can see her!  Grab the rope, Isabelle!”
With the pleasant thought of sleep, Isabelle’s hand slid off the rope.
“Isabelle!  Isabelle!”
Coming back from a walk with the dogs, James spotted the commotion and flew across the bay.
“Daddy it’s Isabelle!” cried Charlotte.
“Where is she?  Isabelle!” James shouted scrambling on the ice towards the men.
Thinking she could hear her father calling from a lush green meadow, Isabelle reached over the edge of the ice and grabbed the rope.
“PULL” cried Patrick.
James had just reached the last of the men, when he spotted Sophia darting from the main house towards the snowy embankment of the bay.
“No, Sophia!” he shouted.
Frantically retracing his steps he headed back towards the bay’s edge.
“James!  Where is she?” Sophia shrieked.
Grabbing her in his muscular arms, he held her struggling body against his chest.
“Let me go!” screamed Sophia.  “She’s my baby!”
Patrick began running towards them carrying a limp bundle wrapped in a horse blanket.
“We need to keep her warm!”
James grabbed Isabelle from Patrick and they started running to the main house.
“Clear the way!” shouted Patrick.
The staff looked on as a sobbing Sophia rushed past them and into the safety of Ravens Glenn.

**********

Sophia tugged at Charlotte’s hair.
“Mother!  You’re hurting me.”
“I’m almost finished, Charlotte.”
“Oh why do we have to wear all these silly bows anyway?”
“Done.”
Standing back, Sophia admired her work.  In sharp contrast to Charlotte’s thick dark hair, the soft cream coloured bows added a hint of femininity.
“Poor, Eliza.  I certainly hope Christopher arrives soon or there won’t be any wedding today.”
Standing and smoothing her dress, Charlotte headed for the door.
“I can help Isabelle with her dress, Mother.”

Shortly after almost drowning in the paralyzing cold water of the bay, Isabelle caught the Scarlet Fever.  She’s lost her hearing in one ear Dr. MacIsaac informed Sophia.  Happy that Isabelle survived her recent tragedies Sophia wanted her to meet a kind and loving man like Eliza’s Christopher.  And a man for Charlotte too, but she sighed, knowing Charlotte was another matter all together.  Fear suddenly gripped Sophia.  What if…she pushed the thought out of her mind.  Christopher would be here anytime she assured herself.

**********

The coachmen helped ladies dressed in brightly coloured silk gowns and gentlemen in top hats and dark coats with tails and velvet collars descend from their carriages.  Women sat perched on the elegant velvet settees drinking warm punch and chatting about the latest fashions in the city while the men stood in front of the roaring fireplace discussing business and high finance.

Soft piano music played in the background as Charlotte entertained the guests with Christmas carols.  Not as accomplished a pianist as Eliza, Charlotte worked twice as hard to compete with her sister’s natural talent.

“Do we have a groom yet?” Reverend Spencer whispered to James. 
“No, I’m afraid we don’t yet, Reverend.”
“Have you got a lot of ale there, James, because you may need it.”
James chuckled, “We might at that, Reverend.”

As the remaining few guests arrived, Jonathan cast a critical eye on the exquisite dining room table set beautifully with the finest bone china imported from England.  Garlands of rich festive greenery hung draped from the walls to the magnificent chandelier with the crystals coming straight from Europe.  Examining the finely polished silver candle abres, Jonathan wondered if all of their work was for nothing.

**********

“But he’ll be here, Father!” Eliza argued.
“Eliza,” James said softly, “We can’t make these people wait any longer.  It’s Christmas Day.”
“But, Daddy…”
“We’ve looked for him, Eliza.  There are no carriages abandoned from the storm last night,” gently putting his arm around her trembling shoulders.
“Perhaps he missed his carriage yesterday,” Sophia offered.  Her heart ached for her daughter.
“Eliza, I’m going to tell our guests we’re postponing the wedding.”
“Father, please!  Mother…”
“James, could we…”

But James had already disappeared down the hall.  Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, a handsome young man with blond hair and piercing blue eyes stepped beside him.

“What do you suppose has really happened to Christopher?”
“I don’t know, son.  But I don’t like it.”
Harrison, tall and strong like James, lived in the property adjacent to Ravens Glenn, the next generation of MacGregors already working in the family business along side his Father and Grandfather.
“Are you going to tell them?” Harrison asked, tilting his head towards the parlour.
“I’m going to have to.  What else can I do?”
Making his way to the front of the crowded parlour, James summoned the attention of the weary guests.
“Thank you for coming today.  But I…”
“There’s a coach racing up the laneway!” bellowed James’ father, Ian.
The frosty winter air rushed into the foyer as James and Harrison flung open the heavy front door.  Patrick met them outside.
“It’s the Mail Carriage!” Patrick announced in disbelief.
“The Mail Carriage?  On Christmas morning?” Reverend Spencer questioned craning his neck around the open door.
“It’s Christopher!” Isabelle called quickly to Eliza.
“Have I missed my wedding?” shouted Christopher jumping out of the carriage.  “The coachman I hired refused to leave in the storm so I happened to have a drink with this fellow at the pub near the station and he offered to take me to Ravens Glenn.  So here I am!”
“Get in the house before I change my mind about you!” James chastised with a sigh of relief.

A handsome man with fiery red hair and a stocky build, Christopher’s playful eyes danced as he caught a glimpse of his beautiful bride Eliza at the top of the stairs.  Her elegant white silk gown adorned with delicate lace accentuated her tiny waist.  Her soft dark hair pulled loosely in a French knot drew attention to her high cheekbones and full red lips.

“She looks so much like our Sophia,” whispered the Reverend to James.
“That she does, Reverend.  We have a wedding to go to, daughter!”

Grabbing Christopher’s arm, the Reverend propelled him into the parlour.  Carefully following Eliza down the steep staircase, Sophia brushed a light kiss on her husband’s cheek and whispered, “I love you my dearest.”
James blushed with pride as he escorted his beautiful wife and daughter into the parlour.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he whispered to Sophia.

The frigid wind howled across the frozen bay. The snowflakes whirled and danced feverishly in the moonlight. Sophia’s lamp flickered as she nervously walked across the sitting room to glance out into the blustery night. Where could Christopher be? He should have arrived by now. She heard the faint sound of someone playing the piano. Eliza had been born with the gift of music. Sophia knew she wasn’t the only one worried about Christopher.

Setting her lamp down, she gently ran her hand across the cool silky fabric of her youngest daughter’s wedding dress. The poor seamstress she thought, working her fingers to the bone late into the night before last, sewing on the final touches of delicate lace.  My beautiful Eliza will be pleased I’m sure – and so will Christopher.

Smiling, Sophia thought back to the day she became Mrs. James MacGregor. He’d stood tall and proud waiting for her at the front of the church, his rugged good looks and warm smile the envy of many a gentleman in the city.  His thick dark hair touched the back of his collar.  Sophia couldn’t count the number of times she’d gently brushed that one unruly curl from his handsome forehead.

James had the good fortune of inheriting his father’s quick wit and strong mind for finances and together they built a thriving business in the new city of Hamilton.

“Progress, m’ boy! Progress!” Ian would bellow in his best Scottish brogue running his hands through his thick silver hair, the buttons on his vest slightly strained over his broad chest.
“Technology is the future, James!”

Sophia felt a twinge of sadness as she thought about Ian. Ever since Claire’s death the twinkle in his eye had all but disappeared.  Her body consumed by the fever, Ian rocked his beautiful wife Claire in his strong arms for the last time, bidding farewell to the love of his life.

“Mother!!!” a frantic voice shouted from down the long hall. “Mother!!!”
“What is it, Charlotte?” Sophia sighed wearily.
“The pudding, Mother.  The pudding!  Cook is concerned that we’ll be short of currants for tomorrow’s Christmas pudding.  Whatever are we to do?”

Stepping into the hall, Sophia studied her eldest daughter. Tall and slim, her long dark hair pinned sternly behind her head, Charlotte reminded her of her own mother with a heart of gold but stubborn as a mule. 

“Really, Mother! The pudding!” Charlotte insisted.
“Tell Cook I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Yes, Mother but do hurry. Cook can be quite impatient you know.”

Turning quickly, she swept down the hall. Sophia watched her daughter disappear down the grand staircase. Never will I have another daughter marry on Christmas Day she muttered.  But Sophia couldn’t help but appreciate the aroma of Christmas throughout the house, a lovely touch for her daughter’s wedding. She loved this house almost as much as she loved James for having it built for them.

With a breathtaking view of the bay, the main house sat upon a slight hill overlooking the maze of gardens in full bloom in the summer months. Consulting with draftsmen from Scotland, James and his father replicated Ravens Glenn – the magnificent estate they’d shared with James’ mother, Claire in the small town of Fallin, Scotland before moving to Upper Canada.  Claire’s shiny black hair reminded Ian of a sleek raven.

Pausing on her way down the hall Sophia looked out the frosty window, the full moon bathing the frozen bay in silver light. Her thoughts raced back to last winter – the piercing scream, the footmen running to the bay, James struggling to keep her away. Shuddering, she banishes the haunting memories of that dreadful night.

Where is Christopher she thought as she hurried past the splendid Christmas tree adorning the front foyer.  Outside, the furious winter wind whipped the snow from the ground and tossed it into the night air. Light shone from the Coach House as the footmen prepared for the many guests expected to descend upon Ravens Glenn Christmas morning.

***Does Christopher make it to his wedding?  What happened on the bay last winter?  Come back on Thursday and find out***

My furry little spider friend and I have a spooky tale to spin about the lives of those

who’ve dared to enter the Wicked Wench’s haunted haven otherwise known as Shanley Manor.  My unfortunate friend who’s still waiting for Mr. Right joined in the ghoulish fun

crooning the latest songs from the Crypt with her new Punk Rocker pal.

The Hippie started groovin’ to the beat

while Sarah shared her book of powerful spells

with the clever Cleo Queen of deNile

who convinced The Hippie

to threaten Billy Swashbuckler with his own magic sword.

Hoola Girl snickered

and ghostly Gothic Raggedy Ann smiled her sinister grin.

But the clock struck midnight and the ravens cawed to my invited guests to gaze into the looking glass or forever stay the hideous creatures they’d become while here at Shanley Manor.

And so ends my scary Halloween soiree for another year.  Alas, my broom awaits. 

Farewell my friends.  Until next year… 

In 1878, this magnificent mansion was built for successful businessman Charles Smith Hyman.  His political ambitions included Mayor of London and the prestige of serving as a Cabinet Minister with Prime Minister Wilfred Laurier. 

An athlete at heart, Mr. Hyman was the captain of Canada’s most successful cricket team and won the men’s singles tennis championship seven times in his professional athletic career.

Maryann and her sister Janet were my partners in crime as well as

Maryann’s beautiful daughter, Shelli.

Derek, our gracious Guest Services Representative

showed us the elegant private diningroom

and the rustic guest rooms authentically furnished.

We couldn’t wait to get to the diningroom for our 5:30 dinner reservation!

The table was beautifully set including

a special “Women Rock” menu skillfully designed by one of the Inn’s talented and acclaimed Chefs.

Katherine, our awesome server presented us with

exquisite cuisine from the menu prepared especially for us!

We’re so stuffed from eating our amazing dinner that we can hardly make it up the stairs

to our tastefully decorated room on the third floor that at one time, would have been the servants’ quarters.

Instead of going to a club in Wortley Village we chose to have a quiet night in playing Scrabble,

a game of complete concentration

and bitter defeat!

But Monopoly is Maryann’s game of choice

where she managed to snag Boardwalk AND Park Place but ultimately lost the game to Shelli.

Morning came quickly after staying up so late

and we’re back in the diningroom for our delectable breakfast

of French Toast with fruit

and fluffy omellettes with homefries! 

As the saying goes, “all good things must come to an end.”  But we’ll be back to this historic gem next year!

See you next Tuesday here at MySaggyButt!

Happy New Year!  I’ve got a feelin’ it’s gonna’ be a good year.  At the end of the Christmas holidays, I usually struggle with the thought of taking down the Christmas tree and putting away the decorations.  Packing up all the fun memories, happy feelings and kindness that everybody shows at Christmas time into a box and putting it on a shelf until next December.

But not this year my friends!  Bob Hope once said, “My idea of Christmas, whether old-fashioned or modern, is very simple: loving others. Come to think of it, why do we have to wait for Christmas to do that?”  Every so often, I find myself coming back to Bob’s words.  I know we can have those magical feelings all year.  Although, I wasn’t very gracious the day after Boxing Day when the old saleslady at Sears told me the Jockey socks were not “Buy 2 Jockey Socks Get One Free” and that Jockey was exempt from the sale. 

I don’t think she had any appreciation how hard it was for me to climb up the display and bring her back the metal sign that read, “Buy 2 Jockey Socks Get One Free.”  She sniffed then pointed her bony finger to the infinitesimal fine print in the right hand corner of the sign that read, “Sale ends Dec. 24/09.”  Well who knew?  I told her that next time I’d whip out my handy Martha Stewart pocket magnifying glass so I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Guess I’ll have to loosen the lids on those boxes a little bit more.  See you next Tuesday.   

PROGRESS REPORT:  My new healthy lifestyle begins today!  I have a frig full of leafy green vegetables.  Check out Dr. Oz’s Blubber Busting Workout.

Every year I drag out my Christmas pants, you know the kind that look like 70’s palazzo pants made of black crepe paper?  Well when I tried to squeeze my larger-than-last-year body into them the song, I’m Too Sexy by Right Said Fred came to mind but the lyrics had changed slightly to, “I’m too fat for my Christmas pants, too fat for my Christmas pants, they’re too tight for me!”

So my friends, I can no longer use my summer ankle injury as an excuse not to exercise (obviously my mouth wasn’t injured because I’ve been frantically feeding it)!  With my Tuesday posts I’ll be giving Progress Reports on my new “lifestyle changes” (God help my poor husband)!  I’m sure I’m not the only one whose hips have expanded this year so feel free to join me and add your comments to my posts.

But before I say farewell to fat, I’m including another fast, easy recipe for your Christmas baking repertoire to slap onto each hip before the year ends.  It’s my Super Smooth Bailey’s Fudge.  Indulge!  Fat pants rule!

Merry Christmas everyone and thanks for reading MySaggyButt.  I’ll leave you with a little ‘food for thought’ (no calories) from Charles Dickens, “I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.”  See you the first Tuesday in January!

Super Smooth Bailey’s Fudge
2 cups of semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 can of sweetened condensed milk
1 teaspoon of vanilla
¼ cup Bailey’s Irish Cream

Grease the bottom and sides of an 8-inch square pan with butter.  Melt the sweet and condensed milk, chocolate chips, vanilla and Bailey’s in a pot over low heat stirring constantly until smooth.  Remove from the heat and spread in the pan.  Refrigerate a couple of hours.  Enjoy!