Tag Archives: James

Where Santa’s letters actually go

In the village of North Pole, Alaska, lives a man named Santa Claus.

Or so the story goes.

Fun fact–the town of North Pole is actually South of Fairbanks, where Heidi lives. So she can claim with utmost authority “I live North of North Pole.” Of course, North of the North Pole is a different matter.

As I’ve mentioned before, the town hosts a very large Christmas store, where you can purchase Alaska paraphenalia, crêches, ornaments, Christmas trees . . .

. . . and even visit with the fenced-in reindeer out back. Hello Prancer. Or is it Dancer? Sorry. . . you all look the same to me.

While we were there in September, we decided to get an ornament. There were so many choices that it was a difficult task.

The felt sweater or the little wooden sled? The snowflake or the moose?

Thankfully, little James had a clear opinion.

Posted on some of the walls and columns of the store . . . letters to Santa!

I guess they come somewhere after all. I heard that parents can pay “Santa” to actually answer these letters. I wonder what Santa’s going rate is these days. Anyway, I wanted to put up a couple of these letters as we enter the Christmas season for your enjoyment and amusement.

Can I please

have three Junie B. Jones. And some Junie B. books. One stupid smelly bus, the christmas one, and a monster under her bed plus some beads. Thanks. Love,

Abagaile.

Pleas
Pleas
Pleas
Pleas
Pleas
Get Me
a Castle
Pleas
Dan
Marinoe
Jersy

Dear Santa, am I beaing good for Christmas? I hope I am. Do you have little Elves? How are you doing? How old are you? Here’s a Chistmas list

E-Kare
Fisher Price sweet streets
play CD
Lizzemicd
a pitcher of you and Mrs. Clas and elves
from Erin kinney

Dear, Santa

I have been a little naghty This year I am sorry. If I end up getting any thing this year I would love to have a puppy, I would help out more at the house. Santa I would not ask for anything els for the rest of the year.

Love,

Mackenzie

It will be a while before this little guy writes his first letter to the Big Fat Bearded Man.

Lookin’ good in that hat there, James.

Do I have to keep wearing this?

So–did you guys ever write letters to Santa? And did you believe in him? And do your kids write letters to Santa? And how much is Santa charging these days for a response?

The dregs

After writing everything I wanted to about our Alaska vacation, I was left with a handful of random shots–the dregs of the cup of coffee that was Alaska, so to speak. They don’t form a coherent story, but let’s see what we got.

Ooooh–the flowers. They grow so big. I wonder if I sat out in the strong Alaskan summer sun all day long if I would also grow big.

I’ll make a mental note never to do that, just in case.

The little rubber band wrists of a small sicky resting on the larger hand of a big sicky. Both of the boys got colds around the same time, and rested together in the rocking chair. A sweeter sight has never been seen.

This was amazing–front page Fairbanks news boasts a large picture of a bird flying. Newsflash! Newsflash! Bird spotted flying over body of water!

What a unique moment in the daily affairs of Alaska–not.

The railroad somewhere during our Fairbanks to Anchorage road trip.

The boys, renewing each others’ acquaintance on day one.

Checkin’ each other out. Well, his face is kind of hairy . . .

. . . but I guess he’ll have to do.

Plants by the side of the road . . .

Joyful jumping!

Shots of the dramatic mountains from the rear view mirror . . .

And a very foggy mountain.

And that is it. Phew. I can’t believe I’ve been talking about Alaska for 2 months. Blessings upon each one of you for sticking with me during this gift that keeps on giving.

Have a great Monday, every one! Less dregs and more coherency for the rest of the week. Maybe.

Though on second thought, I wouldn’t count on it.