GardenGrrl's WunderBlog

Happy New Year from the Batcave

By: GardenGrrl, 9:39 AM GMT on December 16, 2010

Hi, The Lunar Eclipse Pictures are at #17
This story came about because I thought the characters from a project I'm working on called "The Dust Bunny Wars" needed to have a Christmas Party. So come on in and enjoy the party with Roxie and her friends.

The Tomte Klaus by Gardengrrl

It was their second Christmas together and the fact that most of the guests were from the Fairy Realm and all of the animals could talk somehow seemed happily normal to both Netta and neighbor Bob now. Netta paused before entering the living room carrying another bowl of miniature marshmallows that the Fairy Folk were quite fond of. She smiled. The party was going well and all her guests were enjoying themselves in their own ways. The sparkly ornaments on her Christmas tree kept moving around always changing places on the limbs. With her inner ear, the secret one, the one that allows people who believe to hear magic, she heard the chatter of pixies in the pine tree. Easily bored by anything staying the same, the little pixies moved the glass bulbs from branch to branch. Long strands of silver garland and blinking lights would un-wrap and re-wrap themselves around the tree. Tiny blue creatures would all come flying out from their playground, circle the festive green pine clapping and cheering, and then start re-decorating again.

Micro troops of dirt fairies made themselves at home in her potted plants delighted with the gold and silver glitter she had sprinkled in the pots just for them. Each pot in harmony, they were singing songs of sparkle. It sounded like tiny bells. In the guest bathroom the Loireags from the nearby pond sullenly splashed in the bathtub complaining about everything and what a sacrifice it was for them to come. Just like all annoying human relatives they would not have missed the Christmas Party for anything. As Loireags are most happy when complaining about something, Netta made sure the tub had a slight ring around it. The Loireags were so tickled to be able to complain about their hostess’s terrible hygiene habits that they completely forgot to threaten the other guests with drowning should they come near the bathtub to wish them Merry Christmas.

Dr. Underhill the dwarf, spied Netta holding the bowl of miniature marshmallows and started the “Marshmallow Cheer” which was heartily taken up by Dwarf, Dog and Fairy all. Netta danced the bowl into the room twirling about tossing marshmallows to her friends. Andi a beautiful emerald eyed fairy from the Romanian Keshaly tribe had just finished telling her holiday story. Moving with fairy grace she danced towards Netta and the bowl of treats. Having the Fey appetite for sweets, she quickly took a handful of fluffy confection and not so gracefully stuffed her mouth with marshmallows leaving only bulging cheeks and a big grin.
The room became unnaturally quiet because both dwarf and fairy had stuffed as many sugar pillows as they could possibly fit into their mouths. Then all sat back with puffy cheeks and happy smiles.

As much as they love sweets, shiny things and sing-a-longs, the Fey Folk enjoy listening to and telling stories. Roxie Hollywood, a Pembroke Welsh Corgi born from a Pennsylvania puppy mill, was a true fairy dog who was just learning about her heritage. She ate up the stories like the other fairies ate marshmallows. So rather than playing Jenga with Syd and Bob during the lull in story time, she looked at Captain Corgi with her best puppy eyes and said;
“Would you pleeeease tell us story?”

Captain Corgi is a Royal Woodland Ranger, a sort of fairy police for the Southern Ley Line District. Hailing originally from Pembrokshire Wales, he speaks with an accent that is neither British nor Scottish so it must be Olde Welsh .
“Aye, sure little one, as it’s Christmas stories we be telling, and you who need schooling, I will tell you a story about a Swedish fellow now goes by the name of Tomte Klaus. The Tomtes are close kin to the English Brownies and the Norwegian Nisse.”

At the mention of Brownies, the group in Netta’s kitchen stopped compulsively washing and re-washing her dishes, because frankly, Brownies are not very good at relaxing at parties. They wanted to listen to Captain Corgi’s tale of Tomte Klaus. The Captain paused so the Brownies could properly fluff a sitting pillow to share. Finally, the brown and white talking dog with an interesting accent continued;
“Right then. Now the Tomte are fine looking fellows what stand about two feet tall sporting red cone shaped caps. They all have curly white beards and like to wear neat grey suit coats paired to some fine matching grey breeches. These fit close round the calf to white socks followed by curly toe brown shoes. Quite actually, they favor in looks that Travelocity gnome on the telly commercials, but oh how they get offended being compared to such a footloose character as the traveling gnome. Like the Brownies, the Tomte are serious fellows that work hard and stay loyal to the human family they adopt. None of that flittin round the world business for them.

Now a Mr. Wee Tom Tomte of a formerly small village just on the edge of that big port city in Sweden pronounced Jyoteborg but take note youngster it’s spelled like Gothenburg.”
Syd, always the smart aleck interrupted; “Is there going to be a quiz?”
The Brownies and Roxie glared at the large white cockatoo named Syd.

Captain Corgi realized he was teaching instead of story-telling so went back to his tale without anymore academics.
“Right then. Now Wee Tom Tomte lived with an old old couple named Astrid and Albin who had given him porridge and vocation at their little cottage where Albin worked as a Tinker to support his family. Times had changed, the suburbs came to their little village and most all the original folk sold while the city folk bought and then, knocked down cottages to build big fancy
town homes. In no time at all their wonderful little village became home to the naughtiest children in all of Sweden. Nary a one be it parent or child believed in fairies or Santa Claus.

Everyone in Netta’s living room gasped in horror. How could a whole town not believe in fairies or Santa Claus.

“Surely then it was hard times for the Fey folk who moved on. None of the city people with all their fancy electronics had use for a Tinker. Hard times fell on the couple too. Even though they had little money, they always fed Wee Tom . Well sure enough same as every year, winter comes, but it was this year that Astrid sat wrapped in a blanket by a cold coal burning stove quietly shedding tears while Albin paced the floor looking about the small cottage for something he could sell.

Now all this broke Wee Toms heart. A Tomte will sometimes take to borrowing things to help his family, but these were desperate times and Wee Tom was seriously thinking of taking to thieving to save his people. Here it was Christmas Eve and all they had was cold porridge in a cold cottage amidst people what had more than plenty. A right sad Christmas Eve it was too. Because they couldn’t afford a whole tree Albin had cut some evergreen branches and holly from one of those common areas of trees and bushes planted by those big stone walls with the signs announcing rich peoples homes nearby. They called the police who came along lecturing old Albin about what’s right and wrong. The head of the Home Owners group even threatened him and Astrid with a nursing home. Then the man took the branches Astrid was decorating to just throw away in the trash.
Wee Tom almost cried when the missus gave him their last piece of bread and told him Merry Christmas.

After his family went to bed wrapped in all their blankets because the house was cold, Wee Tom sat to thinking about what an honest fellow could do. Every year Santa came and dropped coal in the stockings of all these children that didn’t believe. Oddly, because they didn’t believe and their parents bought all their presents, they never found the coal that Santa left. Kinda like they had become blind. Now it annoys Santa to no end making these unnecessary stops but the Rules Of Christmas Magic clearly state that if a child hangs out a stocking, good kid or bad, Santa has to put something in the stocking. The rules also state; Naughty gets lumps of coal. Well Wee Tom figured if they couldn’t see it they wouldn’t miss it and that would be more like borrowing instead of stealing so he had made up his mind what to do when he heard Santa’s sleigh bells.

Surely it was past midnight when Santa came to town. Wee Tom followed behind with a sack, hopping down the chimneys after Santa popped out. In the last house while he was nicking coal from a red store bought stocking, Santa popped back down the chimney nearly frightening poor Tom half to his death. In his deep jolly voice Santa said “So then Wee Tom, why are you following behind me nicking all the coal?”
The Tomte all ashamed to been caught by Santa just looked at the tops of his curly shoes and said real quiet like all full of embarrassed, “Dun no.” Santa being the wise and good fellow that he is, dropped to one knee putting a hand on the little guys shoulder, “Tell me then, is it your family? Do they not have coal for their stove or food for their table?”
Wee Tom , he got a big lump in his throat just then and tears started running from his eyes even though he told them not to. Santa spoke, “You know how the laws of magic work. I’m not allowed to give presents to adults only children. But, I can give presents to my elves that they can give to their friends and family. Would you like to be one of my elves?”
Wee Toms face lit up. Tomtes were not elves, but Wee Tom would call himself a flying pig if it would help his family. “ Oh yes Santa, yes indeed, I want to be one of your elves.”
“Well then you are one of my elves. I shall call you Tomte Klaus. Your job will be to look after the old people around here that still believe.” With that Santa gave Tomte Klaus two magic sacks, one was full of coal to heat their stoves and the other full of food. With a light heart Tomte Klaus went about town visiting homes of the old ones, spreading Christmas magic and goodwill.

During the night Albin and Astrid starting throwing off their blankets because they felt warm. Astrid being a bit of a talker mumbled in her sleep about miracles. Upon waking up the old couple found the coal stove had a glowing fire, the bin was full to over flowing with coal, enough to keep them warm all winter. The cupboards had food, fresh apples and oranges were on the table. There perched up on the window sill just as proud as could be stood Wee Tom Tomte Klaus grinning ear to ear wearing his new red suit. It was hard for them not to say thank you because as you know the rules clearly state; To thank the helping Fey is to say you are done with their service forever. So Albin took Astrids hand, gently kissed her cheek and whispered, “Merry Christmas my love.”

Note About Copyright
Stories are meant to be shared. While loved ones expect store bought gifts at Christmas, the Season started with Someone giving of Theirself. Granted your kids or spouse would be miffed if you didn't buy them something, but for how long will they remember the things?

We all remember when someone sat down and read stories to us.
The older we get the more cherished a memory it becomes. For Christmas don't just give gifts, read to someone you love.
O. Henry and Charles Dickens both have some great Christmas stories.

So here's the legal stuff if you would like to sing-a-long;
The Tomte Klaus By Gardengrrl is copyrighted material. It may not be printed or reproduced via print, video, electronic or internet for commercial purposes. Author and authors estate reserve all rights.

Permission is given to reproduce story for entertaining friends and family. All copies must include authors pen name "by Gardengrrl". Author expressly encourages people to sit down and read to each other.
Creative Commons License
The Tomte Klaus by By Gardengrrl is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Updated: 8:47 AM GMT on December 30, 2010


The views of the author are his/her own and do not necessarily represent the position of The Weather Company or its parent, IBM.

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