Comedian Pam Stone can be reached at pammstone@gmail.com
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“The house smells funny,” remarked Paul, coming in from a recent errand and placing a bag of groceries on the kitchen island.
Dear Aunty Pam,
Remember the scene from “A Charlie Brown Christmas” in which a despondent Charlie, finding no joy in the upcoming holiday, sits on the other side of Lucy’s makeshift “Psychiatric Help” booth in the snow, grasping for answers?
Dear Aunty P,
Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls! It’s time again to play (insert woman screaming) —
Dear Aunty Pam,
Ask anyone who works outside for a living who might begrudge rising from a warm bed, and in my case, stumbling out into the freezing dark to the barn, and they will tell you there is nothing, I tell you, nothing, like observing a winter sunrise.
Monday had been a long day. The sort of day where nothing is straightforward, where each endeavor is met with either a traffic jam (which means 3 cars and a tractor in front of you in Landrum), Christmas orders being mixed up and a nervous young horse that managed to leap forward and sideway…
Dear Aunty Pam,
When I was a child my mother on a few occasions purchased an Advent calendar from our church’s tiny gift shop with proceeds going to charitable concerns.
We bought a tree quite early this year as there has been a shortage of trees of late (owing, I was told, to the recession 12 years ago when many tree farmers went bust, and therefore far fewer Fraser firs were planted).
Tucked up with a coffee in hand and the heater blasting in my truck, what better atmosphere than to listen to a bit of Christmas music, I thought, as I pulled into the feed store for my weekly equine grocery shop.
Dear Aunty Pam,
We arrived at our uniquely American holiday, Thanksgiving, once again, and I think it’s fair to say that if you were not feeling particularly thankful this year, that’s all right. Sit down, put your feet up and have a cathead biscuit with some pepper jelly on it. Stroke the head of your dog …
Dear Aunty Pam,
Another weekend, another flying squirrel in the house.
Dear Aunty Pam,
If you know anything about me, or have regularly read this column over the years, you’ll know that if there’s one thing that drives me batty, it is holiday merchandise arriving in the shops by the first of September.
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