Stacy E. Apelt - Bladesmith
ilmarinen - MODERATOR
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Knifemaker / Craftsman / Service Provider
- Joined
- Aug 20, 2004
- Messages
- 38,327
I have posted this every year for around 10 years. Merry Christmas to all my Shop Talk Buddies!
Twas the night before Christmas,
And all thru the shop,
The projects were finished,
The work had all stopped.
The fire was cracklin',
In my warm, cozy house,
As I sat in my chair,
With a glass of Old Grouse.
When all of a sudden,
There rose such a racket,
I slipped on my boots,
And grabbed my work jacket.
It could have been vandals.
Or perhaps a collapsed shelf,
But he last thing I expected,
Was a jolly old elf.
I started at the old gent,
But he paid me no mind,
He lit off the forge,
And stuck in some iron.
I watched in confusion,
Till the light went on in my head,
Santa was busy,
Fixing his sled.
He had clipped someone's chimney,
And broken a runner,
With his sled out of commission,
Christmas was a goner.
We knew what to do,
Neither one said a word,
I grabbed a sledgehammer,
...He'd hit soft, I'd hit hard.
We drew out the skid,
Straight as a rail,
And just like Tai Goo,
Gave the end a twist and a curl.
We bolted it on,
To his ancient old sleigh,
And he climbed up on top,
And was quick on his way.
With a yell and a whistle,
And a snap of the reigns,
All the deer stood at ready,
As he called them by name.
I heard him exclaim ,
As he flew out of sight,
"Thanks a lot for the help,
You sure saved my night".
I went inside and poured,
A single malt ... neat,
Sat down by the fire,
And drifted to sleep.
In the morning I awoke,
The bottle half empty,
And remembered the dream,
Boy, I must have drank plenty!
As I went to the shop,
I surely was thinking,
If I have another dream like that,
I would just give up drinking.
When what to my wondering eyes do I see,
But a bottle of Balvenie, and a new KMG.
Seems the old guy had come back,
After making his rounds,
But he didn't want to disturb me,
My sleep was so sound.
He'd poured himself a tall glass,
and left me those gifts.
And that's why I still,
Believe in St. Nick.
Twas the night before Christmas,
And all thru the shop,
The projects were finished,
The work had all stopped.
The fire was cracklin',
In my warm, cozy house,
As I sat in my chair,
With a glass of Old Grouse.
When all of a sudden,
There rose such a racket,
I slipped on my boots,
And grabbed my work jacket.
It could have been vandals.
Or perhaps a collapsed shelf,
But he last thing I expected,
Was a jolly old elf.
I started at the old gent,
But he paid me no mind,
He lit off the forge,
And stuck in some iron.
I watched in confusion,
Till the light went on in my head,
Santa was busy,
Fixing his sled.
He had clipped someone's chimney,
And broken a runner,
With his sled out of commission,
Christmas was a goner.
We knew what to do,
Neither one said a word,
I grabbed a sledgehammer,
...He'd hit soft, I'd hit hard.
We drew out the skid,
Straight as a rail,
And just like Tai Goo,
Gave the end a twist and a curl.
We bolted it on,
To his ancient old sleigh,
And he climbed up on top,
And was quick on his way.
With a yell and a whistle,
And a snap of the reigns,
All the deer stood at ready,
As he called them by name.
I heard him exclaim ,
As he flew out of sight,
"Thanks a lot for the help,
You sure saved my night".
I went inside and poured,
A single malt ... neat,
Sat down by the fire,
And drifted to sleep.
In the morning I awoke,
The bottle half empty,
And remembered the dream,
Boy, I must have drank plenty!
As I went to the shop,
I surely was thinking,
If I have another dream like that,
I would just give up drinking.
When what to my wondering eyes do I see,
But a bottle of Balvenie, and a new KMG.
Seems the old guy had come back,
After making his rounds,
But he didn't want to disturb me,
My sleep was so sound.
He'd poured himself a tall glass,
and left me those gifts.
And that's why I still,
Believe in St. Nick.
Last edited:
Happy Holidays!!!
