The featured selections are as follows:
	Tiggy's First Christmas On this night before Christmas, the tree looks forlorn, with tinsel all tattered and garland near gone. The musical ornaments now strewn 'cross the floor, all bent out of shape, lacking musical lore. Gifts neatly wrapped lay just under the tree, but one only knows where the ribbons might be?  The elegant bows have been transformed to toys, and all 'round the house comes that "crinkling" noise! The "angel on high" keeps her vigil aloft. She weathers each storm whenever it's brought. Her view slightly tilted, she teeters and tots, from each new disturbance, each climbing onslaught. Through disheveled branches with needles askew, one's ear barely hears an occasional mew. The lights twinkle dimly, and it's a wonder they do, for lo and behold, the wiring's chewed through! Each shiny ball is a boxer's delight, a lead with the left, then double the right. Two or three times and the ball takes on flight and smashes the floor in the middle of night. Oh joy of Christmas, we surrender the fight, we'll sit back and watch from just out of sight. Oh joy of Christmas, filled with pure glee, Tiggy, our kitty, and her first Christmas tree.
	Bear Thicket Santa It was just about twilight 'round Bear Thicket way, when I spied the old man and that overturned sleigh. His suit had been torn from his head to his toes, leaving the flaps to his long johns exposed. "Those reindeer got antsy," he grinned as he spoke, "Snagged by the treetops, the double tree broke. In this place of all places, the place where I start, the trip every year that's so close to my heart." He continued the chatter while refilling his sack, then tied up the knot and jumped in the back. My truck it lurched forward on mind of its own. Still froze to the wheel, I guided it home. When we arrived, little time did he waste. My faded old blue jeans he donned with due haste. Then my spurs with a jingle, my shirt with the snaps, my ten gallon hat and my rumpled old chaps. To these he laid claim, though it wasn't enough. He soon pilfered my can of peppermint snuff. And my best leather jacket, my belt full of conchos, my kerchief imprinted with hundreds of nachos. As I stood there dumbfounded, he sprang to my side. He winked, then he whispered, "To you I'll confide. I was raised hereabouts, and I'm down on my luck. Would you mind very much if I borrowed your truck?" With that he was off, my keys in his hand, to that faded old pickup lift mired in the sand. The engine it revved, the gears how they clashed. I  knew at that moment my truck had been trashed. But a belch moved it forward and suddenly it rose, as the man hit first gear... just as it froze. He waived and he hollered, then let out a cheer, "Merry Christmas y'all and to y'all a good year!? I paused for a moment and pondered the plight, of this jolly old elf as he faded from sight. His childhood rekindled before this year's long flight. In the midst of Bear Thicket on Christmas Eve night.

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