Toksie Turbie and Dinner with Santa

Toksie Find Out About Christmas

Toksie Turbie was told that every year there is a special dinner with Santa for all the people in circus and the elves. Each year it changes, just for fun. Sometimes, it is a big, formal affair with tuxedos and long gowns and much ado about everything, including a special fork or spoon for each course in the meal.

Other times, it was very, very casual with boxed dinners and sitting on the floor in jeans and T-shirts. And at other times it was something in between.

Mrs. Claus always decided how the dinner would be served and what would be eaten and all the other important details that go into a big, huge dinner like this. She usually decided how fancy it would be by figuring out how busy everyone was, getting ready for Santa’s yearly ride around the world to deliver presents.

If they were ahead of schedule, the fancy-schmancy dinner with tux and gowns would occur. If they were waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay behind schedule, it was the boxed dinners eaten a bit quickly, but fun, nonetheless. And, so on.

This year they were not ahead of schedule, nor were they behind. So, Mrs. Claus planned a lovely, semi-casual dinner. A buffet. Serve yourself and no fuss, but not very hurried. Everyone was told to dress nicely, but not too fancy.

Toksie had never been to a dinner party of any kind. Crudville really didn’t do parties. So, she was looking forward to finding out what this was all about. And, she was wondering what Santa was going to say about Christmas, because she sure was curious about all this fuss and bother. It seemed like a lot of fun and she wanted to know what it was all about.

Toksie Turbie really loved her new red pants with the green top. She had new blue shoes, too. She decided to wear those. And, for fun, she decided to make her hair, skin and teeth match the red and green striped wallpaper in her room.

Toksie Turbie looked at herself in the mirror and was sooooooo glad not to be wearing beige and normal people colors she laughed out loud. This is what the mirror saw when Toksie looked at it:


Toksie in red and green

All ready, Ms. Toksie Turbie put on her pink parka and walked to the dining hall. There was Santa to greet her at the door. He had a big smile on his green face that looked like this:


Green Santa

Santa was greeting all his guests, so he didn’t have time just then to explain Christmas to Toksie. So she wondered over to the buffet table to see what a buffet actually was. OH, MY GOODNESS!!! Toksie had never seen such a lovely bunch of things to eat in her life. There was ham, turkey, roast goose, beef brisket, almond chicken, egg rolls, lumpia, dolmades, rice pilaf, lasagne, baked bree, tamales, hummus, fresh veggies and so much more she didn’t know where she would begin. And she hadn’t even seen the dessert table yet.

OOOOOOOOH, MYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY GOOOOOOOOOODNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSS! The dessert table!!!!!!! It had chocolate cake and angel food cake and strawberry cake and cinnamon cake and whipped cream cake and lots and lots of every kind of cake you could ever imagine. And pies, oooooooooooh, the pies, pumpkin and apple and cherry and blueberry and blackberry and apricot and peach and pecan and chocolate and lemon meringue and all the pies you ever wanted to taste in your life.

Then there was the ice cream table. A special frozen table with chocolate, strawberry, vanilla (who let vanilla into this fun group?), peppermint, chocolate chip, licorice, and every ice cream you ever loved in your life.

And pastries, OMG, pastries, chocolate eclairs and cream puffs and napoleans, and so many more scrumptious things you’d never know where to put it all in your tummy.

Toksie Turbie was really looking forward to this meal!

Morty found her looking a the desserts and suggested they sit together at the big, huge dining table. Toksie thought that was just a perfect idea and the two of them went off and found some seats. Soon after, Mrs. Claus announced that it was time to eat. So everyone lined up at the first table and got their turkey, egg rolls and whatever else they wanted from there.

When everyone was seated, again, Mrs. Claus asked Santa to say a prayer. Everyone bowed their heads and Santa gave thanks for what they were about to eat. He asked for a blessing on everyone present and that all the circus people would be safe in their performance and all the children of the world would get their presents without a hitch. Then Santa said “AMEN” and everyone else did, too.

After they had eaten their main courses, but before everyone visited the dessert tables, Santa asked each elf and circus member to say a few words about what Christmas meant to them. The first elf said that Christmas was a time to bring children joy. The lion tamer mentioned that Christmas made him joyful because it had an opportunity to bring fun to the elves. Each one at the table mentioned something that had to do with giving of themselves and how it made them joyful.

Then it was Toksie’s turn. Morty smiled at her, knowing she hadn’t the foggiest idea what Christmas was, and recalling his first visit to North Pole Village and how Santa had explained things to him. Morty thought he knew what was about to happen.

Toksie hemmed and hawed and stuttered and sputtered till Santa said, “Toksie, have you ever celebrated Christmas?”

“No”, she said.

“Well”, Santa said softly, “come sit up here on my lap and we will all explain things.”

So, Ms. Toksie Turbie in her green and red striped body, hair and teeth, wearing her new red pants and green shirt, walked and walked and walked from her spot at the loooooooooong table to Santa. She sat on his lap. Mrs. Claus smiled and softly said, “Santa, don’t be too hard on her.”

Santa smiling back at his wife, whispered, “Don’t worry, dear”.

With Toksie safely settled in Santa’s big lap, he began, “Two thousand years ago, a man was born in Bethlehem. His name was Jesus. Christmas is His birthday.”

“What’s a birthday, Santa”, asked Toksie.

“That darned Crudville”, said Santa, under his breath.

“What?” asked Toksie.

“Nothing”, replied Santa, “A birthday is the day you were born. On that day, your friends and family celebrate it and, lots of times, you get some presents.”

“I never had a birthday”, Toksie said.

“Yes, I know, you fell out of the sky and no one knows who your parents are or when you were born. But, you do have a birthday. We just do not know when it is. We will pick a day to celebrate yours, just so we have an excuse to eat ice cream and cake and give you presents. But, that is not Christmas. You shall have another day for your birthday.”

Santa continued, “Now, back to Christmas. Jesus was a special person. There are lots of different things that people believe about Him. Some believe He was God. Some believe He was just a good man. Others believe that He was a prophet. But in spite of what people believe about Jesus, almost everyone agrees that His birthday is worth celebrating. So, people of all walks of life and different religions, sometimes come together to celebrate His birth.”

Santa went on to say, “In each person’s home or church, they will celebrate what they believe about Jesus. Prophet, man, reincarnated god, God the Son, and many other things that are too complicated for you, Toksie, to understand right now at your young age. But when people come together at work, clubs, or anyplace else where people of all walks of life gather, they celebrate together the fact that a good person, a holy person was born. And that is what Christmas is all about. It is a birthday party.”

“So”, asked Toksie, “you bring presents to everyone on their birthday?”

“No”, laughed Santa, “I bring presents to children on Jesus’ birthday.”

“If it is Jesus’ birthday, and people get presents on their birthday, the why doesn’t Jesus get His presents?” Toksie was thinking that Jesus was getting gypped on this deal.

“HO! HO! HO!” laughed Santa, “I never thought of it that way. But, you see, Jesus is in heaven. So, He can’t accept presents. Toksie, a Christmas present is a very special thing. You see, Jesus isn’t here to accept it, so we give to each other. People want to give Jesus a gift, so they give one to someone they care about. That person accepts it for Jesus. When you choose a Christmas gift for someone, it is your gift to Jesus. And, they should accept it on behalf of Him. That is why each gift should be carefully chosen and graciously accepted. Especially by those who believe that Jesus is both God and man.”

Santa continues, “Someday, you will learn about all the different religions in the world and what they believe. Tonight, you are learning how all religions can celebrate Jesus’ birth together.”

“OK”, said Toksie, “But Santa, how come you give presents to all the children in the world?”

“Because”, Santa said, “Jesus loves all the children of the world. And, I honor Him by giving them each a gift. I like to think I give it to them from Him. That one special thing they want most, or need most. I choose each gift carefully for each child. I have lots of help, though.”

With that, Santa announced that it was time for dessert. Everyone has a great time at the remainder of the dinner party . And everyone was ready for Christmas in their hearts, too.

Toksie Turbie has her own board at Auntie Shoe’s Pinterest account. Sharing it with you here also feeds the SEO Nag Monster. 🙂

www.pinterest.com/auntieshoe/toksie-turbie-from-auntie-shoe/

Picture of Toksie on the wall by Auntie Shoe.
Picture of Santa from a purchased font and colored by Auntie Shoe, with permission.
(C) 2013 Auntie Shoe. All Rights Reserved.

Toksie Turbie Visits the North Pole

Toksie Turbie Joins the Circus and the Circus Entertains Elves

Morty was quick to find a place for Toksie to sleep in the circus. She had her own room in one of the trailers. It was not beige. It was pink, just for her. Well, when they painted it pink they didn’t know she was coming, but it fit her just the same.

Morty explained that her part in the circus would have to be worked out after Christmas. This was because every year this particular circus went to the North Pole Village and entertained the elves while Santa delivered presents to all the children in the world. It was already December 20th. The circus only had four days to get to the North Pole and get the show all set up.

OH, MY GOODNESS! You never in your life saw so many people move so fast to get somewhere. They left directly from Crudville. Packed all the trucks with costumes and scenery and tents and assorted circus stuff.

When they reached the farthest point in Alaska, there was a special train waiting. It was the train to the North Pole Village. They had to unload all the costumes and scenery and tents and assorted circus stuff. Then, they had to re-load it in the proper place on the train.

All the animals had to be moved from the trucks to the train, and placed in special cars. All the trainers had to be sure the animals had whatever they needed. Then, the train left the farthest point in Alaska for the North Pole Village.

When they arrived, all the elves and Santa took a break from making toys, wrapping them, and loading them into Santa’s sleigh and watched the parade.

Yes, every year, when the circus arrived at the North Pole Village there was a parade. A very short one, I might add, because elephants and camels and tigers and horses can get very cold, very fast at the North Pole. Not to mention people.

But, they still had a big parade. The elves, Santa, and Mrs. Claus lined the streets of the North Pole Village to watch.

The elephants came first, with the lovely ladies in blue tutus riding on the top. STANDING even. The lovely ladies in the blue tutus stood very tall atop their elephants. The ladies were very cold in their scant tutus, but since it was all for the entertainment of the elves, it was a short parade, and it was once a year only, so the ladies were happy to do it.

Next came the camels. They were not used to the cold weather. The camels walked with men riding them with great safari hats on. The men, not the camels. The elves liked the camels best. The camels knew it and they smiled as big as a camel can smile, even though they were FREEEEEEEEEEEEEZING. If the ladies in the blue tutus knew that the elves liked the camels best, you can bet your bottom dollar those ladies would have been wearing proper fake fur coats. Yes, indeed!

Why fake fur? Because it is very rude to wear a tiger skin coat in front of a tiger. You might accidently be wearing the tiger’s relative. And that simply will not do, now, will it!

After that, the tigers went past in their cages, with their trainers walking in the front and back of the cage. It just isn’t wise to let a tiger out of its cage in the North Pole Village with all the little elves about.

Then came the horses. the riders were wearing silks and satins and lots of cool hats with ribbons and all kinds of cool colors. Every color you like best, Mr. or Ms. Reader, was present and accounted for, honest. All your favorites. Every one.

Santa had a special building just for the circus. Special places for the animals to be safe and warm during their stay. Each member of the circus had their own room in the building. There was even a room for Toksie.

Toksie Turbie loved the room Mrs. Claus had made ready for her. Lots of color it had. Not one of them was beige. Not a speck of beige could be found in her room. The wallpaper was red and green striped, just for Christmas. It looked like this:


The red and green striped wallpaper in Toksie's room.

The sheets, pillow cases, and the warm comforter on the bed were gold with silver polka dots. T looked like this:



It was sooooo cool and Christmassy that Toksie Turbie almost cried.

You see, even though she didn’t know it, this was to be Toksie Turbie’s first Christmas. Can you imagine having your FIRST Christmas when you were eight-years-old? She was eight whole Christmases behind already!

Remember all the rules Crudville had against anything frivolous? Well, you got it right, Christmas was one of them. Birthdays, too, but that’s for another story. Anyway, Christmas was outlawed in Crudville. Toksie didn’t know anything about it.

She wondered what the big deal was about concerning the green man and woman in the red suits with all the white fake fur. She’d never seen anyone green before, other than herself. Everyone called them Mr. and Mrs. Claus. Sometimes, they called the man “Santa”. She wondered about all the elves and why they were working so hard building little things of all kinds that people were calling “toys”.

Yes, Toksie, There is a Santa Claus and He is Green

After she was all settled into her room, Toksie put on her new red pants, green sweater and beautiful pink parka (the circus helped her get some clothes that weren’t beige). Then, she went for a walk around the North Pole Village. She visited all the shops with all the candy. She visited all the elves making the toys Santa would deliver. And, after she was done walking all about she bumped right into Santa, himself.

“HO! HO! HO!” laughed Santa, while Toksie was apologizing for bumping into him. “Not to worry”, he said, “it was an accident and no big deal.”

Then he asked, “Why do you have such a puzzled look on your face?”

“Because”, said Toksie, “I’ve never seen anyone that was green before. Except for me, when I play with my colors.”

Santa was so surprised that Toksie could see his green self, he didn’t even notice what she said about playing with her colors.

“Toksie”, Santa said, “You are a very special person. Very few people can see Mrs. Claus and myself in our true color. They see what they want to see.”

“Huh?” mumbled a puzzled Toksie.

“Well”, Santa went on to explain, “I have to go all over the world into lots of different homes with lots of different expectations. And most people would freak if they saw someone in a color other than normal people colors.”

“Don’t I know that!” said Toksie, remembering all her troubles in Crudville.

Santa continued, “So, I use a continuous magic spray. It is sprayed all across the towns and cities and villages I visit on Christmas Eve. It is sprayed from the back of the sleigh. That way, people see me the way they want to see me. And, I don’t scare them. But some might see me as Caucasian. Others as an African. More still might like my Asian self. It all depends on what they wish me to be. Here, in North Pole Village, it is sprayed when the circus comes to town in the special building. It is harmless. But, you see me as I am in spite of the magic spray. That puzzles me.”

Santa thought for a minute and, then, he cried, “OH, you are TOksie Turbie from Crudville! THAT’S why you see me as I really am. I bet you’ve never even heard of Christmas and you are scared to ask what it is all about. Right?”

“Yes, to everything you just said”, exclaimed Toksie.

“The reason you see me as I really am is that you don’t know anything about Christmas and you have no expectations of what I should look like. So, no magic powder will work on you. And, we will talk about Christmas at the banquet day after tomorrow”, said Santa.

Watch this space for the continuing adventures of Toksie Turbie at the North Pole Village.

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Now, to feed the SEO NAG MONSTER. It wants a link. So, this time, Auntie Shoe made some designs, just like the pictures of Toksie’s wallpaper and bed linens. Just for something to link to so the Nag Monster can be fed.

You do not need to buy anything. And, children DO NOT nag your parents for anything. If mom or dad says, “NO” then Auntie Shoe wants you to be good and accept that. But, if mom or dad feels like making a purchase, Auntie surely will not mind.

Products from CafePress, design by Auntie Shoe with the red and green striped walllpaper in her room at the North Pole can be found here, or click on the picture below.


The red and green striped wallpaper in Toksie's room.

Products showing the gold with silver polka dot pattern on the bed linens can be found here, or by clicking on the image below.


The red and green striped wallpaper in Toksie's room.

Toksie Turbie’s Shops:

www.cafepress.com/toksieturbie

www.zazzle.com/toksieturbie

www.skreened.com/toksieturbie

Toksie Turbie — the Early Years

In Which We Learn About the Earliest Years of Toksie Turbie

Sheriff Stephanie, Farmer Frank and Mayor Mike stood over the beige sofa where Toksie Turbie lay in the beige house. They pondered and discussed what to do with the baby. They knew that someone had to take care of her. They also knew that they had no way of finding out from where she had arrived.

So, after much discussion and a loooooong consultation by telephone with Judge James, it was decided that Toksie Turbie would live with Farmer Frank. This was OK with Farmer Frank. He liked children and, well, Toksie was beige and that was his favorite color.

Having it all decided, a beige crib and other beige baby essentials were found and Toksie Turbie was properly moved into her new beige home. But, while we, the author and the readers know Toksie’s name, the inhabitants of Crudville did not.

So, it came about that the three adults needed to name the baby. Mayor Mike noticed a tag on her wrist. It only said “TOKSIE”. It was decided that that must be her name and, so, it was. The Turbie came later.

Toksie Turbie Gets the Turbie

Time progressed and Toksie grew. Much to the chagrin of Farmer Frank and the other residents of Crudville, Toksie did not remain beige. You see, for no reason that anyone could figure out, Toksie could change color at will. I mean, if she wanted pink hair, green skin, and blue teeth, she had them. She just had to think it and it was so. If she wanted pink polka-dots in her hair and orange stripes on her skin, she could arrange that, as well.

As you can imagine, this ability was not appreciated by the residents of Crudville, who preferred everything to be beige. They had, in the beginning been jealous that Toksie was beige, as they, the residents were all sorts of normal people colors.

So, Toksie was told in no uncertain terms that while white, black and other expected people colors were acceptable for her skin, no polka dots, stripes, or anything other than normal was allowed. Her hair could be blonde, brown, black or red, nothing else. And her teeth must always be white. Toksie complied. She only appeared in normal and expected colors.

The town council even tried to force Toksie to pick one appearance for herself and stick to it, but, well, that’s how the Turbie came into play. It was the first time Toksie went ballistic.

She was four. She had agreed to all their rules. She lived without polka dots and stripes and didn’t make her skin green ever. But to be told she had to pick just one hair color, one skin tone and only white teeth, well, she just had HAD it.

After the town council gave Toksie the news, well…first, her skin turned bright purple. Then her hair turned dark purple. Then her teeth turned a kind of light-purple, but not quite lavender. And, THEN things got really scary. WEIRD SHAPED PURPLE STEAM CAME OUT OF HER EARS. I mean, real steam. You never saw anything like it in your life. It was like Toksie was going to explode.

Toksie Turbie Turns Purple

Next, Toksie ran around all the town council’s desks at once 100 times and it only took ONE SECOND. After that, she jumped 100 feet in the air, right through the roof she went, and came down on the other side of the town council’s desks.

“NO, I WON’T!!!“, she shouted, “I WON’T LET YOU BE THIS MEAN TO ME.

Toksie went on to say that it was her body and if she wanted to wear it anyway she wanted no one should mess with her.

Someone shouted from the gallery, “You better give her what she wants or she’ll go turbo on us.”

A frightened town council agreed that she could do as she pleased, as long as she chose normal colors, or, of course, beige.

But the “turbo” thing stuck, and after that day she was known as “Toksie Turbie”.

No One Likes It When Toksie Turbie Turns Purple

That scary day when the town council tried to make her choose one appearance was not the last time Toksie Turbie turned purple. Nosiree, not the last.

You could do almost anything to Toksie Turbie except be unfair or mean. Or, even worse, to be unfair or mean to anyone when she was around. Bullies did not exist in Crudville when Toksie was around. She turned all kinds of shades of purple and ran around them 100 times in one second and then jumped 100 feet in the air and came down on the other side of them. Scared the living daylights out of every bully in town.

Why there was the time little Julian was being teased by his big brother, Roger. Toksie Turbie was sooooooooooo mad at Roger she turned turned shades of purple and ran around him 100 times in one second TWICE. Scared Roger so badly he was the nicest person in town for the rest of his life.

Then there was the time Sally, the teenager, made fun of the dress her classmate, Joan, was wearing. It was the proper shade of beige and all, but OMG Sally didn’t like the way the dress fit. Sally was so mean it made Joan cry and Toksie Turbie went COMPLETELY TURBO all over Sally. Sally was the kindest lady in town for the rest of her life.

Toksie Turbie is Not Happy

Toksie lived by the agreed rules. Well, sort of. In her beige room with all the beige furniture and all the beige everything, with the door closed tight, Toksie Turbie changed colors whenever she wanted. She would sleep with green hair, orange teeth and teal skin. That was every Tuesday.

On Wednesdays, Toksie Turbie would sleep with pink and blue polka dots on her teeth, grey and salmon striped hair, with yellow and green swirls for her skin. The rest of the days were according to her mood, but Tuesdays and Wednesdays were set.

Still our Toksie was very unhappy because well, someone as colorful as she just was not going to be happy in a place that only loved beige.

The Circus Comes Back to Crudville

No one in Crudville had ever heard from Mortimer Thaddeus Snodgrass III, Morty for short, since he had left Crudville with the banned circus all those decades before. Morty was grown now. He had had all kinds of magical adventures. But, he’d used his one wish from the magical wishing ring and the three from the magical wishing hat. He was an adult and so, he had a job and all that cool stuff. He was, now, the ringmaster for the circus.

And, for no reason that Morty could ever figure out, he suddenly knew he had to go back to Crudville. So, he led his circus to the town only to be told that they would have to leave the next day. No shows were allowed.

But just like Morty, all those years ago, Toksie Turbie, who was now eight-years old, took the opportunity to apply for a job. She didn’t know what she could do that was interesting. I mean, it never occurred to her that being able to change color would interest anyone because it was so disapproved of in Crudville.

Morty looked at Toksie and asked her why she wanted to leave Crudville. Toksie confessed, “I HATE BEIGE.” Morty laughed and said, “So do I.” That made Toksie laugh, too and well, she forgot herself while she was laughing and her skin turned a happy shade of yellow and her hair went blue. Her teeth stayed white, though.

When she caught herself, she apologized and promised she’d never do it again. To which Morty asked if she could do that whenever she wanted. Toksie said that she could and Morty told her she was in the circus now for sure.

So, Toksie Turbie went home to Farmer Frank, packed her all her beige bags and all her beige clothes and all her beige everything else. Then she said good bye to Farmer Frank, Sheriff Stephanie and Mayor Mike. She thanked them for taking care of her.

Then she danced off to the circus and blew that beige town for good.

Where will the circus take Toksie? We will just have to see in our next installment.

Now it is time to feed the SEO Nag Monster. It wants a link. So, I am feeding it this link to my the brand spankin’ new Toksie Turbie shop. It has Toksie Turbie gear available there.Some other things are in the CafePress marketplace. But the Nag Monster only wants one link. You are welcome to buy something. HAVE FUN!

www.cafepress.com/toksieturbie/10931056

Toksie Turbie Arrives in Crudville

Toksie Turbie Takes a Fall

Ms. Toksie Turbie arrived in Crudville in a most unusual fashion. Having fallen from an airplane, she landed, safely and miraculously, on a very large and very convenient hay stack on Farmer Frank’s farm.

Farmer Frank sighed and said, “Here we go, again.” With that, he picked up the baby (Toksie Turbie was only a few months old) and took her to Sheriff Stephanie. Sheriff Stephanie looked at the baby, looked at Frank and signed, “Oh, Frank, agaaaaaaaaaaain?!”

Sheriff Stephanie took Toksie Turbie to Mayor Mike. Mayor Mike looked at the baby, sighed a loooooong, sloooooow siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh and said, “Ooooooh, Stephanie, here we go agaaaaaain.”

You see, nearly forty years ago, when all these people were small themselves, another baby had fallen from the sky, from a different airplane. No one knew how this happened. No one ever figured out how the first baby fell out of the plane, nor did they ever figure out how Toksie Turbie fell, but fall they did.

And, well, the first time did not go very well for Crudville.

Crudville and Mortimer Thaddeus Snodgrass III, Morty for Short

At this point in our story, it is important to learn a bit about the first baby that fell on the Farmer’s haystack. But first, we need to know a little bit about Crudville.

There is no “B” in Crudville, but if there were, it would stand for BORING. Not just any kind of boring. A special kind that looks like this:
BBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG

Why was Crudville so boring? Well, for one thing, ALL the houses and all the farms and all the shops and all the everything were painted beige. NO other colors were allowed in Crudville. It was against the law to paint anything any other color than beige. Yes, really, not joking. It was against the law. All the doors, all the window jams, all the fences, all the walls, EVERYTHING, including the furniture, were painted beige.

Now, there is nothing wrong with a beautiful beige home or a beautiful beige shop or a beautiful beige anything, including the furniture. Beige is a perfectly OK color. But if EVERYTHING is beige, it is really
BBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG

Plus, everything had to be the same shade of beige. So, with all the furniture and the walls being beige, sometimes people couldn’t find the sofa in their own house. It was beige, same shade as the walls. Lots of times people in Crudville only found a place to sit because they bumped into the furniture. In spite of the bruises, they wouldn’t change the law, they just kept bumping into things.

And, everyone dressed alike in the same shade of beige as the houses and the shops and the fences. It was so bad, some people lost their babies when they were just crawling on the floor. Yes, the floor was beige, too.

All the homes were exactly alike. Three bedrooms, two baths, dining area, kitchen, period. Same floor plan. All beige paint. All beige bathtubs, sinks, and unmentionable utilities. Everything matched and you could hardly ever find anything.

BBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGG

Crudville had all kinds of laws to make sure that it remained boring. It is how Crudvillians liked it. You couldn’t dance in Crudville. Considered too frivolous. You were not allowed to ride skateboards or roller skate or play with any toys. Again, too frivolous. There was no TV or video games and absolutely no computers. Again, too frivolous. No reading either. Books were declared frivolous.

Now, this is what Mortimer Thaddeus Snodgrass III, Morty for short, had fallen into when he fell out of the plane all those decades ago. Crudville and Morty never got on. Because Morty loved hats. He had sixty-four of them by the time he was nine-years-old. He could ride a unicycle (which he rode incessantly) and balance the hats on his head at the same time. AND, worst of all, NONE of the hats were beige. Not a single one.

The town council passed ordinance after ordinance to try to force Morty to behave properly. NOTHING worked. It was bedlam from the time he fell from the sky till the day the circus came to town. Yes, circuses were banned, too. Again with the frivolous thing. But, not before the circus master gave Morty an audition. Now, as you can imagine any kid that can balance sixty-four hats on his head while riding a unicycle got hired on the spot.

And that’s how Crudville got rid, er, bid farewell to Morty and he began his own magical adventures in the circus. No one in Crudville ever gave Morty another thought until Toksie Turbie fell from the sky.

So now you know why Farmer Frank, Sheriff Stephanie and Mayor Mike were so concerned about Toksie Turbie.

Here they had the cutest little baby girl, who had fallen from the sky just like Morty. Not only that, Toksie Turbie fell in the same farm on the same haystack (well, it had new hay) as all those decades earlier.

But, the trio was heartened by the fact that Toksie Turbie was beige. Her hair, her eyes, her skin and even her teeth were beige. “Maybe it won’t be so bad this time”, they said.


A beige Toksie Turbie laying on a beige sofa in a beige house.
This is a beige Toksie Turbie laying on a beige sofa in Farmer Frank’s beige house.

Well, we will just have to see about that.

Watch this space for the continuing adventures of Toksie Turbie.

Now it is time to feed the SEO NAG MONSTER. It wants an outbound link. So, for now, I am going to feed it the link to one of my shops. Then it will shut up. You can visit my shop and if you find something lovely, you are welcome to buy it.

ink.flagnation.com — designs using flags of various countries.

Toksie Turbie, Mortimer Thaddeus Snodgrass, III, Crudville are the properties of Auntie Shoe. Invented solely by her. Auntie Shoe is the pseudonym of a real live person. All writings, images, etc are solely owned by Auntie Shoe. All images and writing are ©AuntieShoe 2013 or © 2013 Auntie Shoe. Either way, all this stuff is MINE and Auntie will be very cross if anyone steals from her.

Toksie Turbie – an Introduction

Hello, World, Toksie Turbie is Almost Here

The world is about to be introduced to a new character. Her name is Toksie Turbie and she is eight-years-old.

Toksie Turbie is named for the actress with a cool name, Toks Olagundoye, who plays Jackie Joyner-Kersee on ABC TV’s THE NEIGHBORS (8:30 PM Fridays, but check your local listings). Ms. Olagundoye was kind enough to allow Auntie to use her name for the character. THANKS, TOKS! BTW, following Toks Olagundoye on Twitter is a terrific experience. She’s got a great sense of humor and it is lots of fun conversing with her. There is also her Facebook page and her website. You’ll have a blast!

OK, enough about Ms. Olagundoye with the cool name. You are here to find out about Toksie Turbie.

Decades ago, before Auntie Shoe was an auntie, she had some wee little cousins many years younger than herself. Her job, a pleasant one, often was to keep said wee ones quiet. This was not always easy. So, the future Auntie Shoe would gather aforementioned cousins around, sometimes under a great big tree in the front yard of a place called Willow Glen. If weather did not permit sitting under said tree, the secret room was, at times, employed. Or, adventures on the flying bed would occur.

Wee ones gathered, Shoe would make up stories about a young person called Mortimer Thaddeus Snodgrass III, Morty for short. Morty had a magical wishing ring and a magical wishing hat and he had magical stuff happen all the magical time. Only one or two of these stories have survived because no one wrote them down. This is unfortunate.

Several years ago, when Auntie Shoe had a different persona on a place called AOL, she wrote a newsletter for children for a very brief time. She took some of her stories, one or two about Morty, and placed them in serial form in the newsletter.

One day, Auntie (though she was not yet, Auntie) was contacted by the parent of a child who received the newsletter. The parent had a book series for children in the works and was very concerned that Auntie might think her work was being copied because the book series was about a boy with magical powers. Some kid named Harry, as Auntie recalls.

Auntie read, in an instant message, all the lovely things that the parent planned to write, the plans the writer was making and how the series of books was being plotted. Auntie assured the writer, “Honey, I just sit down and make stuff up, planning has nothing to do with it.” And, thus, Auntie’s opportunity to request the petty cash fund from what became a billion dollar enterprise was lost forever. Yeah, honesty pays off, right?

All this said, it occurred to Auntie that someone, somewhere might think that Morty’s character was stolen or borrowed. In the interest of avoiding unpleasantness, a strong, fun, female character named Toksie Turbie will soon be born on this blog.

Why? Because your Auntie Shoe needs something to write about on this blog. And making stuff up to entertain people is what she does best.

So, watch this space for the continuing adventures of Toksie Turbie.

Now, the SEO thingy Auntie set up has a nag feature. It will want a picture of something. NAG, NAG, NAG it does until it gets its way. Having no picture to provide you of Toksie Turbie, Auntie Shoe will provide something from one of her designs. Yes, you can purchase it, if you wish. Frankly, Auntie doesn’t mind if you do. Not one single bit.

So to please the Nag Monster:

Hiawatha I'm Home on Women's T-shirt, not Toksie Turbie

Nag Monster should shut up now. And Auntie loves her design. Makes her laugh. The pilgrim in the crow’s nest on the Mayflower landing on Plymouth Rock shouting, “HIAWATHA, I’M HOME!” always makes her laugh.

George Takei and Auntie Shoe

When I Grow Up I Wanna Be George Takei

Your Auntie Shoe has been thinking for several months about the direction of this blog. Yes, part of it is to get you to take a look at her shops and buy something, less Auntie be forced to hit the street with some hand-made sign indicating her need for income. But, Auntie has several blogs that serve the purpose of promotion of various stuffs created by her. Keep reading to find out what this has to do with George Takei.

This blog is meant to be a little bit of everything. Mostly, so your Auntie Shoe can keep better track of herself. And, with so many different topics (flags, politics, humor, awards, religion and more) in her design repertoire, she kind of needs a “flagship” blog. So, this is it. What’s George Takei got to do with it?

Well, your Auntie Shoe follows George Takei everywhere. No, not in a stalking sort of way, in a Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest sort of way. Mr. Takei makes Auntie laugh. Auntie often needs a good laugh. (who doesn’t.) George makes Auntie think. Thinking is a good thing. He sends a variety of interesting items to his followers. Humor, politics, art, and much much more. Your Auntie would like to do that, too.

Several months ago, Auntie read an online article about how to get the likes of you, the reader, to follow, buy, donate, or whatever the goal is, of a particular online endeavor. The article specifically mentioned Mr. Takei and warned against doing what he does, even though the actor does it very well. Basically, it said that only George can get away with doing what George does and, don’t do it.

Auntie has never been one to do as she is told.

In your Auntie’s thought processes she has compared and contrasted herself to George Takei. They are counterparts, in slight ways. Auntie is female. George is not. Auntie is a Roman Catholic. George is a Buddhist. George is from a generation ahead of Auntie. George is Asian-American, Auntie is Caucasian-American. George is married, Auntie not so much. George is fit and trim. Auntie’s doctor believes there is room for improvement for Auntie.

Those are the ways in which George Takei and Auntie Shoe differ. But the things they have in common are worth considering, as well. For example, both Auntie and George prefer men as romantic partners. Yet, both believe that whom one loves is no one else’s business. George’s art is his acting and writing. Auntie likes to write, but she also makes fun designs to sell on stuff. She did act a little in high school and took a class in college, but she’s no George Takei in that area. Yet, in their own way, each is an artist of some kind. Auntie has seen every episode of Star Trek ever made. George was in them.

George excels at putting a smile on people’s faces. Auntie would like to think she does that, as well. At least, she would like to make an attempt.

Mostly, at this juncture in her life, your Auntie Shoe thinks it is high time she had some fun on this here Internet. So, in this blog anyway, she will write what she feels like writing and let the chips fall where they may. Hope George doesn’t mind…

Here is a link to Mr. Takei’s blog. There are links there to his Facebook page and other ways to follow him. Remember, Auntie said FOLLOW, not stalk. Two COMPLETELY different things!
www.georgetakei.com

Mr. Takei wrote a book. Click on the picture to find out more. Auntie will not receive any funds for this. She just wanted a picture of George and this was the best way to get one.
George Takei Book Cover

JFK November 22, 1963

The Day JFK Died

They say that everyone from my generation can tell you exactly where they were and what they were doing on two occasions: 1) when we landed in the moon and 2) when they heard that JFK had been killed.

Today, I am remembering much of that horrible day, and the events afterwards, when I was six. The day a crazed gunman took the life of JFK, the first president of whom I had recognition.

John Fitzgerald Kennedy was the first Roman Catholic president. I was three when he was elected and, still three, when he was inaugurated. I vaguely recall Eisenhower on TV. But the first president I truly recall as actually being THE important man, was JFK.

When JFK was elected in 1960, after some long counting of ballots and such, things my three-year-old mind didn’t really understand, my mother, a devout Irish-Catholic American, shed tears. She said, “He’s a dead man”. So great was the anti-Catholic sentiment in the USA in her generation that, even today, she does not believe we will ever have another Catholic president. When I reminded her that things have changed, that Joe Biden is Vice-president and Catholic, she did smile.

I tell you this, so that you might understand the prejudice that existed, in fact still does, on the part of many Americans towards Catholics. Once, in the late 1980’s, I said something (can’t recall what) to a co-worker I had been friendly with for a few years. We often had lunch together and chatted in the office, as co-workers are apt to do. When he realized I was a Catholic, he took two steps backward. I don’t even think he was aware he did it. Then he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He was never friendly to me, again.

In 1963 the town I lived in, a small one, was about 30-minutes east of San Francisco and populated by many transplanted Southerners. In fact, until we moved to San Francisco when I was about nine, I had a southern accent. I fall back into it when ever I am with people from the south. I don’t even realize I am doing it.

Anyway, my father took a cab home the day JFK was murdered. When he got into the cab, the Southerner who was the driver said to him, “Well, we can call ’em (insert n-word), again.” That was the tone of the town at the time. And, a big part of why we moved to the City, later.

But for Catholics in that town it was different. JFK was OUR president. This was the FIRST Catholic president of the United States. All the times the term “papist” was used in a derogatory way, all the times we were beat up by some idiot who thought he was defending his religion by bullying us, for those older than myself, all those things were now negligible. John Fitzgerald Kennedy was president. A Catholic was accepted. It was, indeed, really big stuff. But to me, well, I thought all presidents were Catholic.

So, while we children were bewildered and scared, our parents and the other adults in our lives were devastated.

Sometime in the morning of November 22, 1963, our principal, a nun whose name escapes me, made an announcement that President Kennedy had been shot. Immediately, my first grade class, under the tight control of Sister Mary Julius, began to pray for JFK. Not long afterwards, the principal announced that she was feeding a news report to the classrooms.

I recall listening to the feed, not really understanding anything that was being said. And then, the reporter said, “The president is dead. I repeat, the president is dead. I repeat, the president is dead. I repeat, the president is dead.” Over and over and over again, he said, “I repeat, the president is dead.” Finally, sister cut the feed and said that we should pray for the president, and also for the reporter because he was obviously in shock.

And we did pray. There really wasn’t much else you could do. I remember we had lunch. And I remember after lunch we went to church and prayed. Then we went home.

We prayed because we were so helpless and it was all we could do. Our president was dead. Murdered. Gone. When people die, you pray for them and their families. We were Catholics. We were in Catholic school. He was a Catholic president. So, we prayed.

Sister Mary Julius, in trying to explain all this to fifty (yes, there were 50 first-graders in her charge) said we should pray for John-john and Caroline because they lost their daddy. To this day, I often shed tears at the mere mention of Caroline Kennedy’s name. To many, she is JFK’s daughter, but to me she is the little girl, the same age as myself, who lost her daddy when she was not quite six.

I never felt threatened by the JFK’s death. Sister Mary Julius, for all the times she terrified us with “GOD SEES ME” to be sure we kept quiet, made sure we understood that Lyndon Johnson would be president and all would be fine. I guess that was our civics lesson for the day. We learned what happens when a president dies. Sometimes, I think a lot of what she said was to calm herself. I never saw any of the nuns cry. Just the lay teachers. The nuns kept it together so as not to frighten us.

All this was difficult for a child to comprehend. I had never seen my parents so upset. My mother cried for days. But, mommies sometimes cried over things, I knew that. It concerned me, but it not frighten me.

A day or so after JFK’s death, my father, watching events on TV broke down. He sobbed like I have never seen anyone in my life sob. Through his sobs I could comprehend the words “the son-of-bitch that killed my president”. This frightened me because daddies just didn’t cry. I’d never seen one do it. I never saw my father shed a tear again until my grandfather’s death, and never after that. Nothing frightened me more than my father’s tears. Because I knew something really horrific was happening.

We went to church the day of Kennedy’s funeral. We had Mass, just like on Sunday. We did not have school that day. I recall my paternal grandfather, Greek Orthodox by faith, went to church with us that day.

On the day of JFK’s funeral a man came to the door to sell encyclopedias. A normal sales call. My dad grabbed him by the neck and told him to show some respect. That this was a national day of mourning and, JFK, our president was buried. This was not a day for play or income making. The man ran for his life. I think my dad may have even punched man in the nose, but I don’t recall for sure. Some of the other kids made fun of me because of my dad’s actions. They weren’t Catholic and their parents were Southerners.

These are the memories of a six-year-old when her president is murdered.

Lastly, to Caroline Kennedy, who will probably never see these words, I am sorry you lost your daddy.

This is the page the White House put up on November 22, 2013, the 50th anniversary of JFK’s death.

Mr. Joe and Me – A True Story

Me and Mr. Joe — the Beginning

This is the story of a 10-year-old girl (me) and a famous Italian American baseball player (why ruin the suspense?). It takes place in San Francisco, in the mid-1960’s. This blog post is dedicated to comedian Billy Crystal. An explanation will be given at the end.

It begins very simply. I was a student at the Sts. Peter and Paul’s Grammar School in a, mostly, Italian American neighborhood. We had moved back to San Francisco about a year earlier. We did not have a television until later that year, and I was never a big sports fan.

Even though I was only 10, I had a great deal of freedom. Things were different back then, then they are now, you could let your child walk all over the streets of the North Beach area of San Francisco, without any fear. On my travels with my parents, friends, or alone I had often noticed a tall man in a light-colored suit. Always the same color. Everybody seemed to know him and he smiled and waved at everyone that acknowledged him.

Mr. Joe Gets His Name

One day, I was walking home from school and I noticed that the man in the light-colored suit was walking to my left. Because I was 10, I just said, “Hi”. He smiled and said, “Hello”. And we talked for a while. He asked me about school and stuff. He asked me my name, and I told him. Then I asked him his name. He got a kind of funny look on his face and he said, “You don’t know my name?”

I thought to myself, “Why would I know your name?”, but I just said “No.”

He asked me if I liked baseball, and I shook my head “no”.

He laughed and he said “That’s for boys.” And I nodded my head “yes”.

He asked me if I watched much television, and I told him we didn’t have one.

He asked if I was new in the neighborhood, and I told him, a little indignantly, that my parents and I had lived there about a year. To, me, that was not new. But he said, that that was not a very long time, as some people had lived there for many, many years.

After a little more question and answer, the tall man in the light-colored suit told me to call him “Joe”.

Now, I am ten. And I know that no way, no how, am I supposed to call a grown-up by his first name. I asked him his last name, figuring I would call him “Mr. Whateverlastnamewas”. But he insisted that I should just call him, “Joe”.

Well, that was something I just could not do. I mean this guy had gray hair and everything. I mean it was ALL grey. There was no way I was gonna be calling him by his first name. I remembered a story my mom had told me about a Southern family for whom she used to babysit. The children were never to call her by her first name, nor her last. She had the title of “Miss”, followed by her first name.

So, I said to the nice, tall, reeeeeeeally old man (I mean, with all that grey hair he must have been at LEAST a zillion years old), “I better call you Mr. Joe.”

Mr. Joe tried to convince me that it was OK, that all the other kids did.

And I remembered my father asking me, whenever I said all the other kids were doing something he didn’t want me to do, “If all the other kids jumped off the Golden Gate bridge, would you do it, too?” So, I stood my ground to the tall man in the light-colored suit, and insisted that I would call him, “Mr. Joe”.

More Me and Mr. Joe

For a long time, on a regular basis, Mr. Joe and I walked the same route for a few blocks. He was going to work at a restaurant. I was going home from school. I remember feeling a little sad for him that he had to work at night. But we used to chat about this and that.

Sometimes, when he was playing baseball with the boys from the Sts. Peter and Paul’s Boys Club, he would see me walking past and holler for me to wait. He would run to catch up to me.

I never thought it was odd that a man of his years would want to talk to a child of my young years. I do not know why, but I didn’t. And I enjoyed talking to him. Mr. Joe was tall and he made me feel important. And he listened to me as if the happenings of my fourth grade year actually mattered.

Sometimes he would talk a little bit about his wife. She had died and I felt that that was sad.

The End of Me and Mr. Joe

Our schedules changed, probably Mr. Joe’s more than mine, and I no longer saw him regularly. I would see him playing bocci ball in the North Beach courts with the other old men. They always seemed to be happy to play with him and, it seemed to me, treated him as though he were very special. The old Italian men always got a puzzled look on their faces when I said, “Hello, Mr. Joe”.

There was nothing to the “relationship” we had. Just two people in a big city that talked now and again. It ended because we stopped running into each other.

And then, when I was 12, my parents and I moved to the other side of San Francisco, to an area known as Eureka Valley.

Hey, That’s Mr. Joe!

Now, by this time we had a TV. I was happy about this addition to our family’s modern conveniences. And I watched it quite often.

One day, or evening, I do not recall which, I see a commercial for this brand spankin’ new coffee machine. You know who was doing the advertising? MR. JOE! Mr. Joe was on TV! But hey, in the beginning of the commercial, he introduced himself and said, “Hello, I’m Joe DiMaggio”.

“HUH!”, I says to myself, “THAT’S Joe DiMaggio?” I knew who Joe DiMaggio was, but I had never seen a picture of him. I thought no one would ever believe me, and I was several years past forty before I told anyone. When I told my mom, she laughed and said that everyone knew him in North Beach, so why did I think she wouldn’t believe me? Well, because when I was twelve, I didn’t think that famous people would ever know me, so why would anyone believe that I met one? When you are twelve, things look different than when you are 40.

When I was an adult, I began to wonder why this grown man would seek out the company of a child. And then I remembered the look on his face when he realized I did not know who he was. He had asked why I was talking to him. I said, “Because you are walking in the same place as me”. He smiled and asked, “So, you just like to be friendly.” I nodded.

When I met Mr. Joe, he was about 57-years-old. I was 9 or 10. I think he liked to talk to me because he knew I just liked him. I didn’t want to play baseball with him. I didn’t want to be around him because he was famous. I just liked him.

Why This Blog Post is Dedicated to Bill Crystal

Years ago, I was watching something on TV. Billy crystal was interviewed. Apparently, Mr. Crystal is a bit of a baseball fan, particularly the New York Yankees. In the interview, Billy said his major regret in life was that he never had the opportunity to meet Joe DiMaggio.

The irony was not lost on me. Once upon a time, I, a nine or ten-year-old girl, who didn’t even like baseball that much, shared a small part of her day with Mr. Crystal’s idol, and did not even realize that anything special was happening in her life. Moments like those would have meant the world to people like Billy Crystal, who idolized Mr. Joe.

Anyway, that’s why this lens is dedicated to Billy Crystal. Because I am sorry he never got to have the moments I did with the man known as, and who truly was, “Gentleman Joe”.

If you would like to know more about Joe DiMaggio, the Wikipedia thingy about him is here.

Joe DiMaggio was an Italian-American. This are two of my shops that sell designs using the Flag of Italy.

  • Italian Flag Gear at Spreadshirt (USA/Canada)Sweatshirt Made in USA with Italian Parts

  • Italian Flag Gear at Spreadshirt (EU)Italia tricolore
  • Christian Cross Faux Light Wood Inlay

    Light Wood Inlay Christian Cross

    Canvas tote bag, Made from 100% cotton canvas, Brand: Bag Edge

    This Christian cross image is both beautiful and a way to spread your religion and faith. Created to look like light wood that has been inlaid. it is completely faux, but lovely, nonetheless. Even if Auntie Shoe has to say so herself.

    faux wood inlay Christian cross

    To purchase the tote bag, click here. To see all the items available from Auntie Shoe’s 100 Crosses at Spreadshirt, click here.

    Auntie Shoe has several “100 Crosses” shops at print-on-demand (POD) sites all over the Internet. Since each POD has different products, a range of shirts to choose from, and different shipping times, your Auntie likes to offer you the ability to choose where YOU shop for her designs. Because Auntie knows she isn’t going to wear it or use it. So you should be able to get the design you like at any POD.

    None of the shops has, as yet, 100 crosses. I think the most is about 20 or 25. But, as Auntie Shoe is fond of saying, Rome was not built in a day. Honest. And, the journey of 1000 miles begins with one step. Honest. Little by little, Auntie will get there. Honest. In the meantime, here is a list of current shops you can follow:

    Auntie Shoe’s 100 Crosses ar CafePress
    Auntie Shoe’s 100 Crosses at Zazzle
    Auntie Shoe’s 100 Crosses at Skreened
    Auntie Shoe’s 100 Crosses at Spreadshirt

    Your Auntie created the cross from a Christian Cross font. The techniques used to create the digital art are found in a graphics program called Corel Paint Shop Pro XIII, which is your Auntie Shoe’s drug of choice. SMILE.

    Items purchased for any of the 100 Crosses shops make great Christmas, birthday or anytime gifts. ALso, terrific gifts for baptisms, wedding remembrances, ordinations, confirmations, and first communion.

    Horse Scarf Wraps For Year Of The Horse

    Year of the Horse Scarf from IconDot

    Auntie Shoe did something today she doesn’t do very often. She went into a forum at Zazzle.com. Once there, she noticed that there was a thread hanging about. (Actually, there was more than one thread hanging about, but there is only one in particular that is the subject of this post). The thread was about promoting each other’s designs on products. The idea was to post one of your designs on a product, then pick at least one of the others to promote. Auntie thought to herself, “What the heck” and here she is writing about her experience.

    Why this horse on a scarf? Because Auntie liked it right off. Auntie likes horses. Never ridden, never been around horses, but likes them just the same. And this one seems especially lovely.

    BTW, Zazzle has this affiliate code thing. It automatically adds itself to code Auntie copies from the site, if she is logged into her account at the time. She was, so there is code. All it means is, that if you just LOOOOOOOOOVE, as in GOOOOOOOOTTTTTTAAAAAA have right this second, this scarf, and you click on the links to buy it, Auntie Shoe gets some money. Doesn’t cost you a thing. No worries. But Auntie gets a little money so she can buy her own stuff once in a while.

    IconDoIt wrote this about the scarf above, “Good Luck For Year Of The Horse — Chinese New Year for 2014 begins Feb. 4! Hot new extra long cotton jersey scarf featuring IconDoIt’s original digital painting of a golden horse, Chinese characters for “Good Luck” (top left) + “horse” + top & bottom borders of a firey red pattern. Unisex. Choice of scarf color.”

    If you are looking for a scarf with a particular flag on it, try my shop, Flagnation or Flags-of-Nations at Zazzle.