On the Alberta/Montana Border: Rolled Up

I know you will be surprised.

I know I was.

But our family made it through the entire holiday without a single disaster.

No bruises the colour of kohl. (Google it.)

Nothing!

It may have something to do with all of us being totally spellbound by our new little sister, Ivy Jean Gunn, born on December 16, 2022. She is the cutest baby ever. Ask anyone.

Okay, well ask anyone living in our house.

And Peter.

Back to the holiday…

We spent a few dollars. Partied quietly on Christmas Eve. Opened gifts and feasted on Christmas day. Lazed about on Boxing Day. Generally accomplished little other than puzzles and consuming less-than-healthy snacks for the next 6 days. Quietly celebrated New Year’s Eve. Slept in on New Year’s Day.

Just a really, really normal time.

Living in Sally’s house, you know that makes me nervous.

Then…today…

Mom loves Christmas. And Christmas trees.

We had the big one downstairs in front of the great windows.

And another—less big—up in Mom and Dad’s room.

Both are real.

Both were supposed to be fresh.

Both shed like Labradors.

Sally got the great idea of—after the big tree was un-decorated—toppling it onto the large rug that normally graces the hall and pulling it out the front door.

Theoretically, all that would need to be cleaned would be said rug.

We thought it a good idea.

Yeah, I was surprised, too.

We denuded the tree. Tipped it over onto the carpet.

Rolled it up.

And slid it outdoors quick as quick.

Brilliant. Maybe the first time in our history an idea of Sally’s worked well.

The smaller tree would be even easier, I thought!

Silly me.

Rather than try to haul the large carpet upstairs into Mom and Dad’s room—and besides it was already outside, thick with dead needles—we decided to use the runner in the upper hall.

We slid it into their room.

Collapsed the tree onto it.

And rolled it up.

Okay, yes, it took a bit more rolling than the big one downstairs, but now we had a neat package that would be a cinch to kick to the curb.

So to speak.

Sally and Mort slid the encapsulated tree to the top of the stairs.

And that’s where everything fell apart.

We secretly knew it would, am I right?

Just as they started down the stairs, someone banged loudly the door.

Peter, standing just inside said door awaiting Sally and Mort and their tree, swung it wide and two police officers stepped into the open greatroom.

Mort turned to look…

Now those of you who know Mort, know also that when he was made, God added things like ‘grace’ and ‘agility’ with a teaspoon and someone jiggled His sacred elbow.

Mort slipped.

The tree he and Sally were carrying between them slid out of their hands and started to roll.

Why do these things always happen to us?

It rolled down the stairs, gaining steam as it went, finally plowing into the two officers staring up at it dumfounded-ly.

They went down like ten-pins.

The one, Officer Smith merely fell back onto his…erm…backside.

The second, Officer Jones, went forward. Over the tree and onto the rather sturdy marble tiles that form the entire lower floor of the house.

Breaking his nose and one of his very handsome front teeth.

Rats. WHO MOVED THE STUPID CARPET…oh.

I probably don’t have to tell you that their reason for coming was forgotten in the chaos that followed.

Once Officer Jones’ wounds had been blotted and the damage assessed, both men were surprisingly cavalier about the whole thing.

I mean, they (and let’s face it, the entire city police force) know Sally.

Simply dropping by her house is always an adventure.

Am I right?

Happy New Year.

Today’s post is a writing challenge. Participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post with the understanding that all words be used at least once. All the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.