On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

A fresh batch of Fox Ahoys.
Some of my favorite traditions during Christmas are the sweet treats that my family makes.  The most famous of these treats are the aforementioned Fox Ahoys, homemade chocolate chip cookies made by my mom.  Because of their continuous popularity among my friends and family, I wanted to write a short history of these cookies based on my own recollections.

Part 1

"Son," called my mom from the kitchen, "Would you like to learn how to bake my cookies?"
I looked up from the T.V where I was watching the latest episode of Power Rangers and hurried into the kitchen.  This was HUGE!  I was about to learn how to make my mom's homemade cookies.  These sweet morsels from heaven were a success wherever she took them - especially at our church where, thanks to one of my friends, they came to be known as "Fox Ahoys" (my family has a thing for foxes).
As I looked excitedly at the ingredients set before me, my mom began to explain the difference between salted and unsalted butter and that adding nuts to the cookies was optional (which was fine with me because I've never cared for nuts in my desserts).  While she began mixing the ingredients together I asked, "Where did you get this recipe?"
"It actually came from your grandmother actually."
"Meemah?  So, this is an old family recipe?"
"I don't know how old it is, but it is a family recipe."
As images of my grandmother toiling over the cookie dough, knowing somehow instinctively how much of what ingredient to add to the mix danced in my head, I made a mental note to ask her about it during our next visit, which would be soon because Christmas was coming.

On the forth day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

"Scary Ghost Stories and Tales of the Glories..."

One of the Christmas traditions that has confused me the most this season involved that line from the song "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year." What do ghost stories have to do with Christmas? I have no idea.
I love Dicken's classic "A Christmas Carol" which is both a ghost story and a Christmas story. And, ironically enough, Santa brought me a book about South Carolina ghost stories this year. If anyone has thoughts, please share them. Until then, I will share with you one of my favorite ghost stories that came out of Savannah, GA:

A woman who lived to the age of 103 years was transferred to a personal care facility at the hospital. There she was given a call beeper to be worn around her neck so she could call the nurse at any time. The woman had a wry but gentile sense of humor, and quickly became a favorite of the staff. She unfortunately passed away due to natural causes shortly after arriving, however, expiring peacefully in her sleep.
Her son came to the hospital to collect her personal effects. Included with her items was her beeper, since technically it was the property of the personal car service which as stationed at the hospital, and not the property of the hospital itself. The son slipped the beeper into his jacket pocket and left the room, which locked behind him. Halfway down the hall, he realized he had forgotten his umbrella in her room. He tried to find someone in charge with no success. Not finding anyone to help him, he finally remembered the call beeper. He pressed it once, and when nothing happened for several minutes he pressed it again. Frustrated, he walked a short distance down the hall, hoping to find someone there who could unlock the door. It was then he heard a commotion coming from the direction of his departed mother's room.
Two personal care nurses were standing in front of her door, both with keys. They were arguing. As we walked back to them, he overheard their conversation:
"Look, she died. There's no way she could press the call button."
"Well, I'm not going in. You go in there, she's your patient."
"I'm not going in. As soon as she dies, she's not my patient anymore. You check on the dead lady."
The son laughed so hard that tears streamed down his cheeks and he decided that the loss of the umbrella was worth letting his mother have one more good joke on the hospital staff.

I have a confession

I'm 25 years old but up until a year ago I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life.  Looking back on my life I can see that storytelling has been my desire since the beginning but it wasn't until recently that I decided that writing and storytelling was what I wanted to pursue.  That said, obviously I've never published anything.  Anytime a writing contest presented itself I ran the other way.
 Sometimes I feel like the culture says that's a recipe for disaster.  That waiting until I had a quarter of a century under my belt to start something like this is ridiculous.  But after multiple discussions with me wife and learning that C.S. Lewis being in his forties when he cranked out his Narnia books and the guy who wrote the screenplay for Braveheart also being in his forties I must politely disagree with culture.
The opposite extreme that the pendulum swings to is the thought that I've got plenty of time to start this career so I'll just hold off for now.  Insert x number of reasons (read "excuses") for waiting whether legitimate or not and you'll find yourself years down the road wondering where all the time went.
So this is my attempt to start something.  My goal is to post about three times a week.  I've got some story starting tools that will help generate ideas as well as stories that I've already been thinking about.  I will also probably post short stories and essays that I really enjoy that I want to share.  I would love to hear your thoughts both positive and negative about my stories.  Maybe I'll even find ways for us to collaborate.  Who knows?