Holiday mysteries abound: how’d that holy oil last for 8 nights? What star was it calling to the Wise Men like a celestial GPS? Whence comes the sinister fruitcake?
This year, I have mysteries of my own.
First Holiday Mystery: Lately, when I use my cell phone to call certain friends, my name shows up on their caller i.d. as . . . Donald Jackson. This didn’t use to be the case. I used to be known as me, Harley. I don’t know anyone named Donald Jackson. I’ve Googled him, and there are many of him, including a British calligrapher, a Canadian figure skater, and a sports attorney. But which of these is my Donald Jackson and what is he trying to communicate through my cell phone?
Second Holiday Mystery: Two weeks ago, I was awakened at 2 a.m. by the sound of frantic thumping in the rabbit hutch outside my bedroom window. I went to investigate, accompanied by my dogs, and we discovered a raccoon the size of a moose trying to kidnap our bunny Dixie. The dogs chased the raccoon into the pool, but he turned on them, ready to fight, so I, half naked in the moonlight, spent 20 minutes dragging my two large dogs back into the house so as to avoid carnage and a trip to the animal ER. For two hours I stayed awake until Mr. Raccoon climbed out of the pool and over the wall into my neighbor’s yard. Then I brought Dixie into the house, where she’s spent every night since. Three days later we discovered a dead rabbit—not Dixie!—lying headless on our diving board. Ewww. Now, I have my suspicions about whodunit. The question is: why? Why decapitate a wild rabbit? Why on the diving board? Why leave the corpse behind?
Third Holiday Mystery: I was sitting in my kitchen, when I heard a loud THUMP that sounded like a bowling ball being dropped onto the carpeted floor upstairs. Or perhaps a 200-pound man falling off a bunkbed. Thirty seconds later it happened again. I yelled to my kids, “What is going on up there?!” then realized my kids were downstairs with me. Uh-oh. The THUMPS continued, the walls were shaking, my 11-year old daughter burst into tears, and her best friend, who was over for dinner, burst into tears too, they screamed, “Let’s get out of here!” so we fled to the neighbors'—who could hear our THUMPS from their house. They came with us to investigate, but within minutes the thumps stopped, as suddenly as they’d begun, never to return. Wha—?
Fourth Holiday Mystery. I was hiking with the dogs in a nearby canyon at sunrise when I came around a bend and saw four white horses coming at me. Pure white, except for the manes and tails, which were subtle pastel shades of pink, blue, green and purple. One horse had a rider, a middle-aged woman, who nodded at me and then rode on silently, the other three horses trailing her. A moment right out of Middle-earth.
The final mystery is how it was that what began as a marketing tool to sell books ended up creating a family. I’ve read other blogs that are as smart as ours, as funny, as poignant, but nowhere have I read comments that are as consistently sensitive, hilarious, insightful and bighearted as the comments that come from you. What made TLC special was its backbloggers. It has been my good fortune to be among you.
And you? Any holiday mysteries we can solve for you? Any theories about mine?
Happy Monday . . .