It's September, which can only mean one thing: the "Countdown to Christmas" is just over a month away. Well, if your advent calendar starts when Hallmark holiday programming begins, that is. The network that's brought us wondrous hits like Crown for Christmas a personal favorite , Switched at Christmas, and A Shoe Addict's Christmas just announced its slate of forty 40! To help guide you, we've starred the originals we're especially excited for, including Danica McKellar's Christmas at Dollywood which features the incomparable Dolly Parton and Chabert's Christmas in Rome which was, believe it or not, partially filmed in Rome.
So, you snow the drill. Plug in those twinkle lights , put on your fuzziest reindeer socks , and pour yourself a glass or three of Rudolph's favorite red , for a season you'll never fir -get. Double Holiday Premieres : Saturday, Nov. I remember this one time, the year I took a job in Vancouver the worst place on earth to be near my sister, and she drove down to visit with her husband and my nieces, Lily still a baby, Adira then two, this wild fast skinny thing with an elf face and ebony hair, and we hiked through Lighthouse Park, along a trail that wound two miles through thousand-year-old cedars and descended steeply to an inlet called Starboat Cove, and my niece ran its length but on the way back got tired, and I asked if she wanted a piggy-back ride.
My sister offered me food and I declined, though ravenous. I saw by the remnants on the counter that my family had consumed ten pans of buttered squash, twelve loaves of bread, and eight vats of lasagna. Holidays make people hungry. My relatives are fit and they exercise and have good metabolisms. However, the sight of ricotta droppings made me nauseous, and when I pulled the trash compactor out from the counter I saw thousands of silverfish sliding atop squash peels.
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My stomach rolled; they sparkled and slithered. I closed the drawer. My sister asked what was wrong; I said nothing, opened the trash, saw only squash rinds. We have mulled wine! Good money for the pelts! Are your scarves in a department store? Do you want a piece, maybe a small one? I shook my head.
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At any rate, all was well. No one spoke. The kangaroo frowned and her needles paused; the potbellied pig turned pinker. I felt my niece push backward, into the couch.
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You should compliment Lily! Lily has a new dress on and a bow in her hair! Lily is the one who looks pretty! As the pie sugar hit my blood I felt a surge of—adrenaline? It was true about the track pants—for the last year, my elder niece had worn nothing but nylon track pants, because anything else bothered her skin. Do you often feel cold? I looked at her gray, bald head and sad brown eyes.
Are you losing hair in the shower drain? Her mouth dropped open. I peered at the elephant, on the couch. Do you have belly fat? Are you having trouble losing weight? In reality, K, Kunda was slender. But I knew that women in their forties are paranoid about everything, and for no reason that I understand I was intent on showing Kunda that she was suffering from iodine deficiency. Those are all symptoms of a deficiency in iodine, the mineral most essential for fertility. Suddenly it was done. She opened the door, closed it carefully behind her, and walked into the dark yard.
Beyond the glass dome of the circle room was clear black sky; under the Christmas tree sat mounds of gifts decked in sparkling gold-and-red paper and tied with organza ribbons. Behind her, the black cat sauntered across the kitchen tiles and out the door and into the grass. It padded left, past the swing set, and headed into the trees. And I was, like, Christ. I felt terrible. She tried so hard and no one thanked her. Then an immense fist like a sledgehammer punched my jaw. I fell on my butt on the trail. An orange pain was my jaw and also the world.
I had three faces and saw three sisters. Adira begged us to leave the sliding door open for the cat. The house was quiet. I guessed everyone was asleep. I figured I could sneak into the kitchen and eat half a pecan pie and no one would know. I entered the kitchen and found half a pecan pie, covered in foil, on the counter.
I unwrapped it. Stale pecans, wheat crust, lard, and corn syrup—I was desperate for it. Outside, it was coal-black. Cold wind blew through the open door.
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I stuck my finger in the pie and scooped out a big blob. The pecan-syrup blob was moving toward my mouth when I heard a high-pitched cry, outside in the yard. I felt afraid. I put the blob back in the pie tin, and stepped away; a black ball shot into the kitchen, moving toward me fast, uttering a high sound, once-cat, but it moved on its belly, pulled itself forward by using its front paws, which scraped madly, nails clicking, across the floor; it had no legs, only a head and a torso, it seemed to roll past me, it paused between the circle room and the kitchen and looked at me.
It was Crow, but her back legs seemed to have disappeared—she was half a cat and her face looked gigantic, puffed to twice its size. My sister appeared in the hall. My elder niece appeared. The whitish blobs slid across the floor—golf-ball size, like undercooked eggs with red tendrils.
In one I could see the golden disk and the dark pupil. Revelstoke is an unusual town. We left the clinic at 6 A. A somewhat odd thing happened that morning. My sister, who stuck up for me when she was a kid, but whom no one stuck up for—ever, in any way—thanked our mother and uncle for coming, and told our uncle that he had to go. Some say that those born between December 22nd and January 19th carry existential sadness within them.
They say that Capricorns are at the end of their line; everything they want to do, they have to do within this life. My sister made a new rule: no cats outside.
Click here to return to the Medical News Today home page. The history of Santa Claus is an interesting one. Legend has it that the jolly man in the red suit is based on a real person: a Christian bishop called St. Born in the 3rd century in Patara, Turkey — which is a region that was Greek at the time — St. Nicholas is believed to have dedicated his life to helping those less fortunate, from young children to sailors.
It is this generosity that is thought to have inspired the story of Santa Claus, a man who travels around the globe on Christmas Eve, delivering gifts to good little boys and girls. Nicholas is more than a legend; they reveal how ancient bone fragments that have been discovered in churches around the world may all belong to the man himself. Since AD, what are believed to be the remains of St. It is said that the remains were taken there by Italian merchants, around years after his death — which many historians claim occurred around AD.