One Sweet Street

Twas the night before Valentine's Day and all through the 'burgh a trip to the new Oakmont Bakery did not sound absurd.

You undoubtedly have heard about the beloved Oakmont Bakery moving to a new location. The move has been in the works for about four years, but as of February 6, the new location at the corner of Hulton Road and Third Street, just a few blocks from their previous location, is now open for business.

My relationship with Oakmont Bakery began 8 years ago. I kept hearing commercials on the radio about these paczkis, (pronounced pownch-kee) Polish donuts and I needed to get to the bottom of this tasty delight. (Since I am Slovak/Hungarian I grew up on ceregi not paczkis!) Because of the timing of learning about pownch-kee and having my third child, his nickname Pootchie was inspired by this Polish specialty.

The first trip to Oakmont Bakery turned into a tradition that now spans nearly a decade. We make the yearly trip, just before Lent begins, to get our last taste of sugar before the fasting season begins. There are at least 15 flavors. I have never strayed from the Oakmont Creme which has a chocolate buttercreme filling, but most of my family ops for the fruity flavored filling.

But I digress, we are talking about Valentine's Day not Lent.

The weeks prior to the bakery's move, news programs were filled with stories about the new luxurious location. It was during that time my mom saw a photo of one of their specialty cakes called the Sweetheart Torte, a chocolate and yellow cake topped with strawberries and chocolate ganache, and mentioned she would like to try it. She even saved the newspaper which featured the photo and article about the new store for me to read. This cake had made quite an impression on her.

The new bakery is 6 times the size of their previous location down the street and boasts more indoor and outdoor seating with lots more parking. But that parking was simply not enough on the night before Valentine's Day. Cars were lined up down the street as people were trying to get that special treat for their loved ones.

I had meant to get to Oakmont Bakery earlier that Wednesday, but the snow and cold didn't  make for an inviting afternoon errand. I thought about going to the bakery early Valentine's Day morning, they open at 6 a.m., but after seeing the stories about traffic being a bit snarly at the new location, I didn't want to risk being late for the school drop off.

I was in a bind. Either l would let it go and not get the cake at all or I would make a mad dash at 6 p.m. Mind you, they close at 7 p.m. Since I am a bit obsessive- compulsive, letting it go is not in my DNA.

My daughter accompanied me on the dash. She was having a bad day and I thought nothing boosts your mood like the prospect of getting tasty treats. I had full intention of getting us pre-annual paczkis, since I was making the 35 minute drive and thought I also deserved an extra treat this year.

When we turned onto Third Street the traffic was backed up and it was already 6:45 p.m. I told my daughter to run in and at least get a number and I would park. I was able to find a space down the street, not far, and I ran to the bakery.

When I looked at our number we were 160. The number they were serving at the time was 100. I wasn't sure how this would play out, but I figured since we were inside, there was a good chance of getting something.

Once I caught my breath, I looked for the cake. There were a few in the glass case. Yes! Then I looked at the paczkis. There were plenty of those too. But because we had so long to wait, and there was so much to see, cookies, cupcakes, cakes, my order changed a few times. I talked myself out of the paczkis, because the rest of the family wasn't with us and it just wouldn't be right. I talked myself into gingerbread men, for my sons, eclair, for my husband, and cannoli, for my daughter and I. Oh, and yes, the cake for my mom.

 Eventually, they locked the doors, as people were still trying to get in at 7:10 p.m., but shortly after that our number was called. I was pleased with how smoothly the transaction went and how I used self restraint in leaving with not much more than what I intended. Once in the car, my daughter and I enjoyed each bite of the mini cannoli and started the journey home.

The cake was really important to me because of what transpired one year ago to the day. My mom, siblings and I spent Valentine's Day 2018 in the hospital as my dad underwent major surgery. It was not a great way to spend the holiday, but it did provide us the amazing gift of my dad currently being cancer free.

I thought enjoying the Sweetheart Torte was appropriate this year to symbolize the sweetness of life.  So I left the cake on my parents' side porch with a small Valentine card. I sent a text to alert them of the special delivery. My mom was very surprised and said she would have a tough time waiting until after dinner to cut it.

Later in the evening, I even got to try a piece. Each moist bite made me happy there is an Oakmont Bakery for those times you just need something a little out of the ordinary to make the day mouthwateringly delicious.

I Luuurve You...

(Did you catch the Annie Hall reference?)

Love is in the air as winter makes a startling return this week. (Maybe we should refer to the recent frozen precipitation as Cupid's Mist?) Regardless of the weather, today is the day for that fuzzy emotion to reign supreme.

Some people have mixed emotions about the "love" day. There are people who don't want to buy into the "greeting card" holiday and feel they can express their love any day of the week. That is great for them but I wonder how many of these people actually follow through with that? Without the help of Mr. Hallmark, you pretty much would have to make a card yourself and if you don't have little ones in and out of your home you may not have the red construction paper or glue sticks needed to assemble your valentine.

Plus, without a designated day on the calendar, you would be left to pick a day yourself, and with as busy as life gets you may forget altogether to drop your special one a love note.

I used to get caught up in the romance of Valentine's Day. We are bombarded with commercials each year showing jewelry, cars, chocolate and bedroom aids. After 20 years of marriage, if the Ferrari/diamond ring combo hasn't showed up by now, I know it is not coming. And besides who buys their special one a car for love day? Where did I go wrong? Does my husband not watch tv?

Nowadays the fun part of Valentine's Day for me is helping my second grader make his heart mailbox to display on his desk to hold his special cards. This year there is a contest in his classroom for the most creative box and he is hoping to win. I really don't have any creative ideas, but as long as I have aluminum foil and a glue gun, we are all good.

It means a lot to me to watch the care he puts into writing out each valentine by hand. His teacher prepares a list of the students' names and he makes sure he writes everyone's name on their card. (It would be much easier to leave the 'to' part blank and just sign the 'from' part.) The spaces are so small that many times the names spill over the side with his big chunky letters, but it is the thought that counts.

There is a little girl in his class who has a crush on him. (Which makes him a little nervous for today.) She told him when he takes his glasses off she has trouble speaking and she cannot concentrate. Wow! These are pretty big emotions for a second grader.

I cannot remember the last time I felt like that. Oh wait, it was last week during the Super Bowl when Adam Levine decided to lose his shirt during his band Maroon 5's performance during the halftime show. To be honest, I was kind of caught off guard sitting there with my family when the show went the Magic Mike direction, but you gotta give the guy credit, he is in good shape and must work out a lot.

I was in second grade when I received my first marriage proposal. A classmate wrote me a note and had our whole future planned out. He just wanted me to write back to let him know my answer. My mom thought it was cute and benign, my dad on the other hand was ready to tar and feather the boy. I never would have expected this same boy, years later in high school, would make my speech impediment part of his daily comedy routine. Good times for sure. But as Spike Jones once sang, "You always hurt the ones you love." Cue the penny whistle.

I guess the message for Valentine's Day should be love is all around. Sorry for the Love Actually reference but, it is - whether it is romantic love, friend love, family love or self love. We can all do something in honor of this special day to share the love. It can be as simple as wearing red, smiling at a stranger, holding the door open for someone or letting the people in your life know they are appreciated and are not taken for granted.

Yes, there are those who will enjoy the grand gesture and get the Ferrari and diamond ring, but for those of us riding in the broken down van with the school holiday shop jewelry turning our fingers green, take a moment to soak in the love. It may not all look the same but the sentiment is...

For those of you who read these blogs each week - I luuurve you too! Happy Valentine's Day!

Put the Pedal to the Metal

Do you remember that feeling you used to get, or still get, while waiting in line to ride a roller coaster? That scared, butterflies in your stomach kind of feeling that makes you want to run as fast as you can far far away from the line and the crowds?

Well, I've been experiencing that feeling every day for the past week. I have started letting my 16-year-old drive to his younger brother's elementary school each day for the afternoon pick up. Prior to last week, the driving lessons have been done exclusively by my husband. He is a patient, very Zen person who is an excellent teacher. I have been on the side lines, for good reason, keeping my emotional, impatient self in the back seat. 

My son got his permit in November and due to the shorter daylight time, lessons have been primarily on the weekends. But I wanted to give him more consecutive driving time so the afternoon pick up seemed logical.

I am not a good teacher, but I try to emulate my husband's calm example, which results in me sounding like an episode of The Joy of Painting with Bob Ross. "Get ready to make a happy little turn." "Make the gas pedal your friend."

I really surprise myself with my calm delivery while uttering phrases like "stop sign" or "slow down". In my head I'm repeating my mantra "How Would Bob Say It?" or "Be like Bob." (I could be referring to the painter or my husband.) The latter helps me because I turn it into a parent competition and I want to be just as good if not better.

For the most part, my son is doing really well. His trouble areas right now seem to be actually starting the car and knowing which direction to cut the wheel when pulling out of the driveway. Both trouble areas manifested themselves on the very first school run. I wanted to order him out of the car right then and there but my mantra "What Would Bob Do?" came into play and with a deep breath I encouraged him to turn the key all the way, cut the wheel to the right and pull out of the driveway. From there his performance was nearly flawless. 

I know that my demeanor has a huge impact on my son's performance. Having kids puts things in perspective for me in terms of analyzing my behavior and how it can affect my kiddos. My little guy has had anxiety each day before going to school this year. Am I sick of dealing with the broken record of "I hate school," "I don't want to go," "My tummy hurts?" Yes, I am. So I have my little freak out in my bedroom before I emerge like Mary Poppins singing songs and using my best distraction tactics to get him out the door.

For my oldest, I know the stakes are a little higher. I know if he senses my stress or trepidation, it could affect his performance on the road, which could result in an accident. Yes, I'll try to keep it in check.

These daily trips have been good therapy for me actually, in being my best most patient self on the outside even though I am going a little crazy on the inside. The other day, I did something my son did not like. I decided to say a prayer before we departed. I meant to start this tradition on the first day of afternoon pick ups but I forgot. So when I told him to bless himself, so I could ask for divine guidance, he said in typical teen fashion, "Wow! Just wow. I must be really bad if we need to start praying before I drive." Obviously this was not my motivation, but I had to smooth things over fast."I'm not so much praying for you as I am praying for the rest of the drivers out there. You know there are quite a few nuts on the road." (Me included.)

He didn't let my spontaneous prayer affect his confidence and once again he did a great job. I try not to really think about the stone cold fact that I am a passenger in a car that my first born is driving - the fact I am old enough to have a teen in a car driving - that one day he will ask to use our car....

I have heard from others that this process does get easier. (By the time my youngest is learning to drive, I'll have been through the teen driving experience twice, so I'm sure I'll be cool as a cucumber.) But as of now, we have 50+hours to clock before getting a driver's license can even be discussed. We have parallel parking to conquer, night driving and the three point turn. 

As Bob Ross once said, "Talent is a pursued interest. Anything you’re willing to practice, you can do.” My son will keep practicing driving and I will keep practicing patience. Yes, there will be bumps along the road but I hope when he looks back on this time he will someday realize the conscious effort I made to be the best imitation of myself - not the me I am, but the me he needed.   

Grampy giving one-year-old Nick his first driving lesson.

Weather Or Not

I was duped over the weekend. I was duped and I should have known better.

I fell for it. The hype, the hysteria, the madness. I felt like Chicken Little waiting for the sky to fall and it never did.

To be honest, I wanted the snow. Five inches, ten inches, two feet - I wanted to be snowed in. No where to go. Stuck in my house with my family. (Yes, teens included). We spend weekends running from one activity to the next so the possibility of being stationary, quite appealed to this ol' gal. But again, I knew better.

I have mentioned before that I have some meteorology knowledge. I spent three years studying weather through Mississippi State University. Weather has always been a fascination of mine from the time I was little. My heroes: Bob Kudzma, Joe DeNardo, and Dennis Bowman. Yes, you know the names, you remember their faces. I looked up to them - wanted to be them. I would perform my own forecasts in my living room. We had a wooden front door that appeared to have tree stump lines going from side to side. The lines were bowed like those found on a weather map indicating the jet streams. I would stand in front of the door and talk about the weather making it up as I went.

When I was in between having my first and second children, I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest my life. I was working in radio at the time and I really didn't know which direction I wanted to go in. A friend of mine was making the transition from doing traffic reports to becoming a weather gal and was wrapping up her schooling. The more I thought about it the more those childhood memories came into play. Maybe, just maybe, this was my calling. Maybe I knew it way back then.

Long story short, I got my broadcast meteorology certificate in August 2004 and a month later my daughter was born. Three months after that, my husband got a job back home in Pittsburgh. I have never used my certificate because well, life got in the way, but I got a lot of knowledge stuck inside my brain. One little helpful tidbit is - you can't forecast snow.

Because I was only in a certificate program and I did not pursue a degree, we only skirted the snow prediction dilemma. There is too much higher math involved and even the best will tell you, it is not an exact science. There are many levels of the atmosphere to account for, many variables to consider, including the unique western PA topography, and many scenarios that are possible.

During the past week, local weather personalities worked hard to formulate the most accurate forecast to prepare us viewers. They knew some people were going to get a lot of snow, but they did not know exactly who.

 It is a shame because no one puts their face and name in front of information they do not think is reasonably accurate. But at the same time, snow is snow and well, you know how the weekend panned out - that 4 to 8 predicted in Pittsburgh ended up being maybe 1.5 inches, if that, in my backyard. But a mere 25 miles away that 4-8 came to pass, and then some, in places like Lawrence and Clarion counties.

 While we didn't get the snow forecasted, we did get a wintry mix and cold temps that forced many organizations to cancel events on Sunday. We had three things on our Sunday schedule that were eliminated. So it made for the day I needed, the stationary day of laying in bed, catching up on laundry and attempting to get the house back in order post holidays. I even played video games, which I never do. I haven't had a day when I didn't leave my house probably since the summer. Yes, it was overdue!

 Our local forecasters have been trying to explain what happened and why snowmageddon missed us, but it certainly gave local grocery stores a boost. Going into my local Walmart on Saturday night, shelves were actually bare. Spaghetti sauce, cereal, juice - gone. I didn't even bother checking out the toilet paper. I knew what kind of ghost town that would be. (I already had stocked up with the good stuff last Thursday. I told you - I got sucked in.)

 It's only January and there is still a lot of winter to be had. Let's not be sad by what didn't happen. Let's be glad that slowly the days are getting longer and spring is only two months away. And when that time comes, the only thing forecasters will have to worry about is the rain record we will beat this year.

Photo from late March 2018 snowfall.

There Are Places I Remember

Sometimes in life the moment defines what course you should take.

Sometimes a detour is called for.

I was stopped at a traffic light in McKeesport, on my way to my next destination, when I noticed the words National Tube Works on the side of the brick building behind the former Daily News. Despite the cold crisp day, the welcomed sun seemed to illuminate things that had been washed out by the grey overtone that is typically Pittsburgh in the winter.

I have driven past this building many times in my life, but never had those words jumped out at me the way they did at this moment. The significance of those words... National Tube Works is that my grandfather spent 30+ years of his life working there. I never had the opportunity to see him in action, or see actually where his department was, but I knew he faithfully rode a bus each day to get to and from his job. I knew he received a special engraved gold clock for his years of service.

As I sat at the light the thought ran through my head to take a photo with my phone. Unfortunately, the thought came too late and I had to drive on. I turned as soon as I could to double back and then I saw them...their blue color and shape unmistakable. I was drawn to them. I had to see them up close.

Another detour.

This time I was distracted by the royal blue onion domes of the Orthodox church on Shaw Avenue. I used to stare at these domes as a child while at recess. I attended St. Nicholas School just up the street. Our playground was a gravel lot a few doors down from the church. When I was a kid those domes seemed so majestic, so rich, so other worldly. I always wanted to go in that church, but to this day, never have. I would spend many an afternoon gazing at those domes and the other day against a clear blue sky backdrop they remain a beacon in that depressed community.  I took a few photos and then headed back to National Tube.

I am not sure what caused me to be so nostalgic the other day, but I did have a motive to take photos . I thought what if they tear down that National Tube Building? What if that church closes and the domes lose their allure? These cell phones make it so easy to capture moments and our storage space is often filled to capacity with more photos than we need, or will even download, but those photos of my grandfather's workplace and the Orthodox church, yeah, I want to be sure to have those.

My parents grew up in McKeesport and they remember what things were like when the town was bustling during the steel mill hay-day. Although it was sad for me to drive around and see how much things have changed from my childhood, it is almost like those days never happened with what is left, what is no longer there, and what has been replaced.

But McKeesport isn't alone. The other day someone posted an old time photo of Braddock Avenue and I did not recognize one building - Ohringers Furniture Store, Ochs Restaurant. I only became familiar with Braddock after the closing of Braddock Hospital so I don't have the intimate knowledge as many who grew up there.

It is sad how things change and the older I get the more nostalgic I seem to become. The farther you get from the "good ol' days" the more you want to remember the simpler times with no worries. Now the landscape where my children grew up is about to change. The Kmart in North Versailles is about to close forever and Kings Restaurant's will eventually disappear to make room for a Get Go.

That corridor is about to transform from what they have etched in their minds. There is a lot of talk about what might move into the Kmart building and my kids are hoping for either a Target or a Panera/Chick Fil A combo. We all can dream, right?

So as the landscape of our lives continues to change, we should not be afraid to make little detours. Let's keep filling up our phones with photos because we can and don't have to go to the Fotomat and wait 5 days to see if they took. Do you remember where there used to be a Fotomat? I do.

California Dreamers Bring New Life To Rankin Church

The final mass at Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary Church was held in September of 2011. The beloved Croatian Catholic church with the vaulted ceilings, large pipe organ and honey colored pews in 2014 was stripped of all religious articles and closed for good. For years it sat, falling prey to neglect. It, along with many other closed churches in the area, kept alive only through the memories of those who were married there, those who were baptized and came of age within its walls, those who, in the sanctuary, said their final goodbye to a loved one.

It is hard to believe that a place with such a wealth of memories would one day be discovered by a young man browsing Craigslist, looking for a place to live. Jordan Stasinowsky, age 24, was house hunting when he came upon this diamond in the rough. Jordan has called Pittsburgh home for the past two years. He works as a financial advisor for PNC Investments and early in 2017 he discovered the church and wanted to convert it into a place he could live. He pitched his idea to his parents Cheryl and Wally, who have been in construction for more than 20 years in California. At the time, they were in the middle of a remodel with their daughter, Amber Smith, and her husband, Daniel, teaching them the ropes of the construction business.

Cheryl flew into Pittsburgh to see why her son was so enamored with this church. "I wanted to talk him out of it," she says. "I told him yeah, it costs $34,000 but you would need to put a million dollars into it to make it into a house, and then you could never sell it."

But while she was in town, and after looking at other listings, she started asking Jordan some different questions. "What else could you do with this building?" and Cheryl says one night, over dinner, the idea of a wine lounge popped into his head and the two began a marathon conversation that, within an hour and a half, laid the groundwork for Mary's Vine. Yes, she admits the idea was crazy but there was one aspect she couldn't shake, Jordan's desire to make this a family project - incorporating all the talents of five individuals.

Cheryl admits she is a California girl, but fell hard for Pittsburgh during her initial visit to investigate the church. Wally, Amber and Daniel felt a pull to the area as well after coming in person to see what this dream was going to take. They agreed, "We'll move our whole entire life to support you in this dream." But as fate would have it, their dream would involve two churches, not one. A real estate agent introduced the family to the former St. Barnabas church, less than a three minute drive from the future wine lounge.  That church and rectory held up better than the Visitation of Blessed Virgin Mary church, in large part due to its age. Visitation was built around 1903. St. Barnabas was built more than fifty years later. The rectory allows for members of the Stasinowsky family private and shared living space not far from where Mary's Vine is taking shape, while a local congregation leases the worship space.

 Everyone wrapped up projects underway in California and by November of 2017 Cheryl was on site full time. Everyone, except Cheryl, has a full time job so she oversees the project. "What we are giving to our kids - is priceless. We have meetings once a week when we discuss what each of us is doing."  Each member of the family has a role - Wally handles the building construction, Amber takes care of the human resources end, Daniel oversees all of the IT Systems, software, website, and marketing and Jordan is the wine guy. He is a certified specialist of wine and is currently studying to be a Level 2 sommelier. Jordan and Daniel are currently developing a, first of its kind, app that will walk a person through the, sometimes overwhelming, experience of choosing a wine.

Mary's Vine will offer between 45 to 50 wines by the glass. These will be wines people are familiar with but there will also be selections to help you step out of your comfort zone and expand internationally. The family will utilize Bermar vacuum sealing technology to preserve the contents of a bottle after being opened and will allow the prices to remain reasonable. This will also enable customers to try high end wines and champagnes and not break the bank. The app, through a series of questions, will intelligently guide a person through the selections and refine their choice to five wines along with menu recommendations that will pair perfectly.

"The goal is that it will remember what you liked last time, if you liked it and it keeps track to see if someone wants to branch out.  The purpose is to always grow people in their experience and their appreciation of wine and always feel comfortable with it," Cheryl explains.

The menu will feature a beef, chicken, salad, and seafood dish each night with an extensive list of appetizers for pairing. The kitchen will be in the former social hall of the church and dumbwaiters will allow staff to retrieve the meals quickly on the main floor. Live jazz music will be featured during hours of operation with an emphasis on Wednesday’s to promote the Pittsburgh jazz scene. During the rest of the week, music will add to the atmosphere.

"Wine is appreciated, Wine is slow. Wine is savored so we want the whole experience to be that way."

The years of neglect took its toll on the church. Major repairs needed to be done including replacing the plumbing, HVAC system, roof, and the electrical system. Wally and Cheryl have cashed in their retirement to get the building where it is right now, which shows their commitment to seeing this project through. They have been working with the Enterprise Zone and local banks to acquire financing.  "Everything that we have is in this place. It has to work. We won't recover from this."

Cheryl and her family are hoping that others will want to share in making their dream come true. A Kickstarter campaign is being launched this week to help raise the additional funds needed to complete the remaining work and ensure a spring opening. There will be thank you gifts from wine glasses to t-shirts but the family is hoping many in the community will want to immortalize a loved one through personalized wine bottles that will be showcased along the wine serving counter, in a shadowbox Wally crafted with wood from the church's pews.

"All we hear are the stories of 'We were married here, I grew up there.' The generational history that this building already contains - that's what we get to give not only to our family but to the community,"

An agreement with the borough of Rankin will allow the lot along Rankin Boulevard to be utilized for valet parking that will be 100% free with no tip required. A beautifully landscaped park will be the gateway to the Tuscan experience that awaits visitors of Mary's Vine. An illuminated sign and waterfall will be seen from the Rankin Bridge as a beacon inviting people to once again gather in this former worship space where generations gathered for more than a century.

"This area is about to change over. We got in on the ground floor. We brought dignity back to this building and when we get the outside finished, it will be back to life again."

For more information on Mary's Vine visit their website marysvine.com or check out their Facebook page.

 A lot of work needed to be done within the church due to it not being used or maintained for many years.

The family tree mural is taking shape through a collaborative effort of strength and creativity. 

Amber and Daniel Smith, Jordan, Cheryl, and Wally Stasinowsky in their holiday photo from the choir loft.

It's a Kind of Magic

I don't think I am the only one who has experienced a little bit of Christmas magic in their lifetime.

I know that having had children in my life for the past 16 years, the holiday has been a source of great stress but also great joy. But even with kids of my own, my thoughts this time of year are of the best Christmases I ever had. The ones when I was a little girl waiting for Santa and hoping my little heart out that I had been good enough to get a few presents under the tree.

Of course I have memories of the great gifts I received over the years, as well as the great gift (a Cabbage Patch Kid) I didn't receive, but my favorite memory has nothing to do with a gift. It has to do with the year my brother and I hung out with Santa in our bedroom.

I was probably 5 or 6 at the time and my brother and I were just bursting with excitement. It was Christmas Eve and my mom was trying her best to get us to go to sleep. My brother and I had bedrooms in the attic and, if memory serves me correctly, we were sharing my room for the night. I remember finally being in bed too awake to even think about sleeping and I am sure my brother and I were whisper talking when we were interrupted by these sounds coming from the roof.

Thunk, thunk, thunk

We stopped talking to see if we could hear it again. Our minds were racing as we wondered if it could have been reindeer landing on the roof. What we heard next was a different sound. A much louder and recognizable sound.

"Ho, Ho, Ho! Merry Christmas!" Followed by the ring of sleigh bells.

Now we knew Santa had arrived and we raced out of our room to greet him. We were about to bound down the stairs for a first hand view of the man in red but were cut to the chase. He was actually coming up the stairs and each step was loud as his boot met the wood. By the time he got to the top of the staircase, my brother and I were jumping up and down.

I think my brother, with the more outgoing personality, was ready for a sit down with Santa but it was tight quarters upstairs. As we were getting the pleasantries out of the way I remember my brother saying, "Santa, let me put the light on."

Santa replied with a chuckle, "No, Ronnie that's ok." But before he could finish his sentence my brother had flipped the switch. What happened next I can visualize as if it happened yesterday. The light bulb in the fixture came on for a second and then flickered out. The bulb was dead.

Now don't think we were all fumbling in the dark, squinting to see Santa. There was a faint light on in the hallway, but my ever so curious brother wanted to see ol' Saint Nick clearly and fully illuminated. (Keep in mind, a brightly lit room could have revealed familiar traits that may have blown our guest's cover.)

The lack of light did not dim our conversation though. I really don't remember if I mustered up any courage to say one word during our special visit, but my brother had the chance to ask the burning question on his mind, "By the way, Santa, how's your wife?"

I remember the laughter and joy surrounding our intimate visit with Santa. It was brief but powerful. I don't even remember what special toy Santa left me that year, but the gift I received that night has outlived anything received as a child. (Although,  had I received a real Cabbage Patch Kid for Christmas in '83 I bet I would still have her.)

The memory of the light bulb burning out in the lamp carried me through my years of Santa doubt. I know there might be a truly practical, scientific reason why at that moment the bulb gave its last glow, but I prefer the more magical explanation. Wherever you stand on the Santa story, you cannot deny the magic surrounding this time of year.

During the past couple weeks I have noticed people are a little more friendly, more generous, more loving. I had a conversation in Walmart with a stranger about elf slippers as if we were best friends. I received an unexpected gift from a friend that was absolutely perfect. I had a picnic dinner with my husband in an uncrowded PPG Wintergarden surrounded by gingerbread houses and Santas from around the world. Magic!

I hope whatever magic you find this Christmas season makes your heart happy and warms your soul.

Merry Christmas!

KB and Santa at the Governor's Mansion