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Jessica StölenEditorjstolen-jacobson@cherryroad.com Sometimes the part of my week I struggle with the most is writing this column. It’s one of those easy to put off… Login to continue reading Login…

Garrison KeillorAuthor & Humorist We had a couple of summery days in November in New York but now, thank goodness, summer is over and we… Login to continue reading Login…

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Rob Perez I’m confused. I thought a Christmas tree already had a theme. It’s right there in the name. It’s not a tree. It’s a… Login to continue reading Login…

Jessica StölenEditorjstolen-jacobson@cherryroad.com When my children were young, I had a friend from Wood Lake that looked an awful lot like Santa Claus. In fact, he… Login to continue reading Login…

According to one famous Christmas song that is for some reason named, “The Christmas Song”, the season is long on chestnuts, Jack Frost, yuletide carols, and, for some reason, though I’ve personally never seen it myself, folks dressed up like Eskimos.

My mother, Grace, and her sister Elsie were lifelong best friends, two adjacent younger girls in a family of 13, and our two families had Thanksgiving together every year, usually at Elsie’s house because she was the better cook, a perfectionist, whereas Mother had six kids, four of us boys, which didn’t encourage perfection. Mostly, she served chow.

One of our traditions every single Thanksgiving is making my Grandma Pat’s “green jell-o”. Grandma Pat, having been from the south, had a very special version of Thanksgiving dinner that included a corn bread stuffing, and as a child I was fairly convinced that in the south, it’s a real thing to cook everything to the point of being nearly powder.

I like bananas.

My grandmother is still on a mission.