Christmas Tradition

The hill was steep, strewn with gopher holes, and small bushes trying to trap Angela's feet
as she trudged along. Suddenly she was airborn. Two strong arms slid her onto a tall back.
Angela shrieked, "Eric, what are you doing?" "The doc said that we have to make certain
that you don't over do any physical exertion." "Phooey," Angela grumbled. "Doctor's don't
know nothin' about nothin'!" Eric chuckled. I'm glad that Dr. Stone isn't hearing you say that!"

"Come on Angela, let's run!" Angela shrieked again as she clutched her arms around Eric's
neck. She put her short legs around Eric's waist as far as she could and hung on hard. At
one point Eric said in a raspy, choked voice, "Um, do you think that you could loosen that
grip around my neck just a tad? I find choking to be most uncomfortable!" Angela giggled.

When they reached the top of the hill Angela gasped. The world seemed to slant away from
them. Below them were silvery clouds that seemed to be tucked in between the trees. A cozy cottage was nestled in the valley below with a stream that ran by.

Jamie came up and tickled Angela. She couldn't stop him. Everytime she tried to capture
his invading hands he just moved to a different spot. Finally Angela said, "Eric, help me.
Stop Jamie!"

Eric turned quickly and slid Angela into his arms in front of him. Angela
thought that she was safe from tickling. She couldn't have been more wrong. Now Eric
and Jamie BOTH started tickling her ribs, her knees which were EXTREMELY
ticklish. Angela was laughing so hard that tears ran down her cheeks.

When she could catch her breath she called out, "Help me Papa Blake!" Blake and Red
came up behind them. Red and Blake had been taking turns hauling a large sled. The
sled was to pull the tree home.

Blake said, "Jamie, Eric, you need to give Angela a break. After all you should pick on
someone your own size!" Jamie looked at Eric, Eric looked back at Jamie. Eric put
Angela on her feet, and the two of them began to tickle their father. Both of them knew
that Blake was very ticklish. Angela saw what they were doing and moved in to help
them. Laughing hard Blake couldn't fight off the three of them at once.

Finally Red whistled between his two fingers. The sound was shatteringly surprising.
The ticklers all ceased their actions. "Now don't get me wrong. I'm all in for a good
tickling, especially when it's directed at Mister Blake. On the other hand we need to
get Angela home quickly. She can't get a chill.

Angela groaned. "I'm all better. Honestly! When are you menfolk all going to quit
treating me like Great Old Aunt Matilda?" "'Great old aunt Matilda,'" Eric and Jamie
mouthed at each other in delight." Angela bristled, "Don't you two fools go off
making fun of the way I talk. I reckon that if you had lived my life you wouldn't
know how to talk too good either."

Blake nodded, "Angela is right." Now, enough of this, let's get tree hunting. The
great Christmas tree hunt of 1890 began.