My dad always loved Christmas, and was a great practical jokester. He delighted in making phone calls to his grandchildren, pretending to be Santa. He’d call back later on for a rundown about what happened on our end—the looks, the comments, and the joy of getting a real live phone call from Santa! One of the traditions in our house was the box of chocolate covered cherries that was always under the tree for him from my mom, a reminder of hard Christmases in years past when that might have been the only gift she could afford. Another was that our house was always filled with Christmas music.

I was a classically trained pianist from the time I turned seven years old. My father’s favorite Christmas carol was What Child Is This? Once I mastered it, I delighted in playing it for him because he took such pleasure in it, and since it was also the tune to another song, Greensleeves, I played it all year round for him.

The tune known as Greensleeves was a British drinking song for many years, a popular folk song that was not religious. In ancient Britain, there have been more than twenty different known lyrics associated with the tune throughout history. It was first published in 1652.

Shakespeare mentions it by name in “The Merry Wives of Windsor” in which it is played while traitors are hanged. It has been attributed to King Henry VIII, and said that he wrote it for Anne Boleyn. How did this song become one of the best-loved Christmas carols of all time?

In 1865, Englishman William Chatterton Dix wrote “The Manger Throne,” three verses of which became “What Child Is This?” During that particular era, Christmas was not as openly celebrated as it is today. Many conservative Puritan churches forbade gift-giving, decorating or even acknowledging the day as a special day for fear that Christmas would become a day of pagan rituals more than a serious time of worship. Although Dix wrote other hymns, in the context of the times, it was unusual for him to write about Christ’s birth, since many hymn writers and religious factions ignored Christmas completely.

The words represent a unique view of Christ’s birth. While the baby was the focal point of the song, the point of view of the writer seemed to be that of a confused observer. Dix imagined the visitors to the manger bed wondering about the child who had just been born.  In each verse, he described the child’s birth, life, death and resurrection, answering the question with a triumphant declaration of the infant’s divinity.

“The Manger Throne” was published in England just as the U.S. Civil War was ending.  The song quickly made its way from Britain to the United States. Dix died in 1898, living long enough to see “The Manger Throne” become the Christmas carol “What Child Is This?”

 I’m posting some of my Christmas covers for anyone who might be needing some historical Christmas story reading over the holidays! The link appears below.

   http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002JV8GUE 

Hope everyone has a very MERRY CHRISTMAS!

VISIT HIS WEBSITE: http://www.jeffreykoterba.com

‘Twas the night before Christmas in this Junction of ours;

The sky over the prairie was ablaze with bright stars;

Our boots were lined up by the fire with care,

In hopes that Old Santa Claus soon would be there;

Felicia’s ornery mule napped snug there in the barn,

Whilst our visiting guest was spinning a yarn;

O’course Winnie in her wool socks and Tanya in her cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,

When out in the corral there arose such a ruckus,

Charlene sprang her from bed to see what the heck was…

…outside the window, there on the barn roof,

Victoria banged open the shutters and near busted a tooth!

The moon was so bright it near blinded my eye

And the snow landed like whippin’ cream coverin’ a pie,

When, what to my hornswaggled eyes should appear,

But a covered wagon and eight dusty reindeer!

When she saw the little old driver with red cheeks and nose,

Karen W flew right to work sweeping dust from his clothes.

He was cheery and bright, a right jolly cowpoke,

Elizabeth laughed when she saw him; he was her kind of  folk.

Those reindeers, they ain’t docile. What a hissy they threw!

Nearly toppled the wagon, and Old Santa Claus too.

Quicker’n a youngin’ off to play hookie,

That old geezer came in and asked Linda for a cookie;

Tracy found one and he ate it, so Stacey got milk

Then Karen K, she presented him with a scarf made of silk.

But Mary, she hung back, I think she was a’feared

‘Cause all night she trembled and her eyes how they teared

No worry, Margaret told her, the fat guy’s a friend.

To us in the Junction and those ’round the bend,

Sure ’nuff Santa left a package in each Fillies’ boot,

Didn’t matter none to him, they was dusted with soot.

Then somethin’ happened, caught us all by surprise,

Donna and Cheryl S showed up with an armload of pies.

We sat down to eat ‘em, and they tasted fine,

Though they couldn’t have baked ‘em; They hadn’t had time;

Old Santa asked for seconds; Bet that’s why he’s merry.

He tried pumpkin and apple, even pe-can and cherry.

Phyliss heaped on whipped cream, and still he ate more.

His belly how it swelled! Would he fit out the door?

“It’s my big night,” he declared.  “Only comes once a year.”

Good thing for that, too, or he’d burst I do fear.

He stifled a burp, and a pipe out it came;

“Smoking’s not good for you,” Cheryl P did loudly exclaim.

“All that sugar and now this, think of your health.

“Think of all the children that count on your jolly old self!”

He listened real close and even nodded his head,

Took right to his heart everything Pam had said.

He tossed that old pipe in the fire with a pop,

“The Missus, she’s been tryin’ to get me to stop,”

With a hearty laugh and a promise to come back

The Fillies watched that old fella leap up the smokestack.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a yee-haw,

And away they all flew, like twister-flung straw.

And we heard him exclaim as that team took flight,

“Merry Christmas, you bloggers, and to all a good-night.”

Who would hang old boots, hats and (gasp) even guns on a Christmas tree?  Ronald Reagan that’s who or at least his Presidential Library, and since I’m lucky enough to live but a few miles from it I decided to share a few of the  twenty-four Christmas trees on display–one for each decade beginning in the 1700s . Each tree celebrates the defining moments of America’s road to greatness and but I’m including only the trees that cover the Old West.

  1830-1839

“Remember the Alamo” was the rallying cry for Texans fighting  for independence from Mexico.   The Indian Removal Act passed with strong support from President Jackson and the Cherokees were forced from Georgia to Oklahoma along the “Trail of Tears.”

 That’s not all that made this decade memorable; Cyrus McCormick invented the mechanical reaper and Samuel Colt patented his revolver.  But the thing that touched perhaps the most lives was the kindergarten movement that swept the country.

  1840-1849

The last rendevous in Green River ends the mountain trapping era. The Mexican-American War was fought, bringing undisputed control over Texas and allowing the U.S. to annex portions of Arizona, California and New Mexico. Gold was discovered in California and the mad dash west began (Something for which we western historical writers will be forever grateful!)

1850-1859

Oil was drilled successfully for the first time and cotton was king.  Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin helped lay the groundwork for the Civil War, and Levi Strauss manufactured heavyweight trousers for miners.  Gold is discovered in Colorado and it’s ”Pikes Peak or Bust.”  Perhaps the greatest boon at the time to the American housewife was the invention of the Singer sewing machine.

1860-1869

The pony express made its inaugural run, carrying mail from St. Louis to Sacramento in only eleven days (which is about the time it takes now).

The Homestead Act of 1862, designed to promote westward expansion, changed America’s  political, economical and demographics forever.

 Abraham Lincoln became president, eleven states seceded the union and 650,000 soldiers died in the Civil War, including one-fifth of the south’s white male population.  The country mourned the assassination of a president, but the decade brought the abolishment of slavery, the Reconstruction Act of 1867 and new hope for the future.

 1870-1879

 The end of the Civil War started the Railroad Boom and 56,000 miles of new track was laid.  

It was a decade of change and some handy inventions including the cash register, typewriter and electric light bulb made life a whole lot easier. 

 Charles Goodnight blazed the first cattle trail, driving 2000 longhorns from Texas to New Mexico and it was Custer’s Last Stand. The Red Cross was founded and Jesse James began his outlaw career. Yellowstone became the first national park and football and tennis were all the rage.

  1880-1889

The cattle industry was still going strong but the last cattle drive ended at Dodge City.  Railroads and local packing houses made cattle drives a thing of the past.

With railroads came the need for standard time and more than a hundred times zones were compiled into four.

Jesse James was assassinated (as was President Garfield), Billy the Kid was brought to justice, Chief Sitting Bull surrendered and a showdown at the O.K. Corral was about to become a western legend.  

1890-1899

 With the invention of Barbed wire raising cattle has never been the same.

A resurgence of leisure time sweeps the nation and the Gay Nineties was in full swing.   Bicycles were the pre-ferred mode of travel and the Chicago World’s Fair introduced the public to the ferris wheel and Crackerjack.    And of course no birthday celebration was complete without a rousing rendition of  Mildred Mills new song,”Happy Birthday.”

 www.margaretbrownley.com

 What family or American history can be found on your tree?

 Several Fillies are up for Best Western Romance of 2011 and a vote could earn you a $25 gift certificate. 

It’s fun, it’s easy and will take you less than ten seconds.

To vote click here:

 It’s not too late to order the New York Times and CBA Bestseller

 Coming March 2011 Margaret’s Exciting New Series Brides of Last Chance Ranch

Each edition began with the same words: ‘Women need a man’s strong arm to support her in life’s struggle, and men need women’s love.”

I’m not sure women today would respond to that call, but in its day the Matrimonial News claimed to successfully bring together
three thousand couples.

For twenty-five cents, a man you could place a forty word ad if he agreed to accurately and truthfully describe his appearance (height, weight) and his financial and social position.  Ads were free for women. Because no one wanted to reveal their name, the newspaper assigned a number to each ad.

The following are two examples of the profiles listed in the Matrimonial News:

245 – I am fat, fair, and 48, 5 feet high.  Am a No. 1 lady, well fixed with no encumbrance: am in business in the city, but want a partner who lives in the West. Want an energetic man that has some means, not under 40 years of age and weight not less than 180. Of good habits. A Christian gentleman preferred.

292- A girl who will love, honest, true and not sour; a nice little cooing dove, and willing to work in flour.

I’ve always been intrigued with mail-order brides and was delighted when the opportunity presented itself to do connected
mail-order bride novellas with my good friend, Jillian Hart. We were both interested in railroads so we have our two brides befriending each other as they come West on the train.  Each one gets off at a different train station in the Montana Territory and both of them are surprised at what they find.  I won’t say any more as you will discover their respective challenges for yourself if you read our Mail-Order Christmas Brides. I will tell you that my heroine, Eleanor McBride, gets off close to where the small town of Dry Creek is developing (I have a long-running contemporary series set there) and Felicity Sawyer gets off the train in Angel Falls (where Jillian Hart has her series).

I’m curious what you think about mail-order brides.  Would you marry someone based on a few letters? Just the thought makes me nervous.

Fortunately, I have a less risky proposition for you.  If you post a comment, you will be entered for a chance to win a copy of Mail-Order Christmas Brides. The good thing is that you don’t need to take any vows at all.

To buy Mail Order Christmas Brides Click Here

http://janettronstad.com/

In my “Lawmen and Outlaws” Christmas Anthology novella, Christmas for Ransom, available both in print and e-book, schoolmarm Eliza Willows  falls in love with an outlaw when the handsome stranger hires her to teach him to read. Of course she’s unaware he’s the bad guy who thieved her granny’s prized Morgan horses smack dab during Thanksgiving dinner. Even when Eliza finds out his true identity, her heart has already been stolen…and Canyon Jack Ransom’s grown a conscience. He vows to become respectable and does all the right things to stay in her heart.

Today I’ll be giving away a signed copy (U.S.A.) or an e-copy (international) after drawing a name from today’s commenters.

Well, today let’s look at a real life good girl who fell for a bad guy. Schoolteacher Anna Ralston, daughter of a wealthy Independence MO businessman, held a Bachelor of Arts degree in Science and Literature from Missouri State College. Truth is, she was one of its first female graduates.

“Annie” is the woman who snared Alexander Franklin James, aka Frank James, and eloped with him in July 1875.  When she pretended to visit her brother-in-law in Kansas City, Frank waited for her on the train, the elopement already arranged.

No one ever knew how or when the couple met. But it is known Frank wasn’t only a rough and tumble baddie. As a youth, he’d devoured the books in his father’s library and even as an outlaw, quoted Shakespeare at will. His father, a farmer and Baptist minister, co-founded the William Jewell College in Liberty, Missouri. So maybe it’s not all that surprising that Frank chose an educator who loved literature. And with him described by the Kansas City Times as a “notable knight of the road” and “dashing and daring,” perhaps it’s not surprising Annie fell for him.

Two days after her departure for Kansas City, her parents received a brief note from her that said, “Dear Mother: I am married and going West. Annie Reynolds”

Not recognizing the name Reynolds, they figured she’d run off with a gambler they’d heard about. Putting their sons on her trail, her parents eventually learned of Annie’s marriage to the outlaw. Her father advised the family to treat the matter philosophically. Nothing could be done now, he said, and the less said about it the better.

Annie and Frank had one son, Robert Franklin James, born February 6, 1878. Four years later, after brother Jesse’s murder, Frank gave himself up, wanting peace after being hunted for twenty-one years.

Found not guilty for two robberies/murders (the juries cited lack of evidence), Frank became respectable for the last thirty years of his life. He gave lecture tours with his old crony Cole Younger and worked for the telegraph before returning to the James Farm in Kearney, Missouri to give tours. He died an honorable man on February 18, 1915. Fearing his grave would be desecrated for souvenirs, he decreed his ashes would be kept hidden until he and Annie could be buried together.

Annie remained with her mother in law at the James farm for many years, After her death at age 91, she and Frank were buried next to each other at Hill Park Cemetery in Independence.

(Excerpt from Chapter Two,  Christmas for Ransom:

Pinching herself, Eliza lost interest in everything except seeing what the stranger looked like in the lantern light. Brawny stalwart men were nothing new in a railroad town or on the ranch, but she never minded a good view.

Her breath caught so hard her sore rib tweaked. He was magnificent. The big-brimmed hat and flowing duster reckoned him a wrangler of some sort coming in from the range. Although he needed a bath and truly looked the worse for wear, she didn’t mind one single bit. The scruffy cheeks, the long rag-taggle coat, even the scent of masculine sweat were far more her style than the slick-haired dandies and overdressed fops she’d met at Boston cotillions.

“This here’s Ransom,” the blacksmith said helpfully.

As the stranger moved closer, he removed his hat and tucked it under his arm with a polite half-nod. For a long luscious moment, eyes the color of manly liquor covered her with a mouth-watering gaze. Golden-brown hair touched the mountains of his shoulders like sunlight at dawn across the Guadalupe Mountains.

Air left her lungs. A slow burn started at the top of her spine, her flesh desperate for the days’ worth of roughness adorning cheekbones carved like crags and valleys. She had to hold her hand still to keep her fingers from caressing the deep etches of his face.

Eliza couldn’t move as she stared up at him, aching and eager.

Now, for a Christmas story about a real GOOD man, my latest release, Right to Bragg, is a short, sweet holiday read.