Hot Dogs And Candles

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Hot Dogs And Candles
Christmas At The Cabin
 
by Susan Jean Charles
 
Snowbound in a mountain cabin, bored siblings play a new game and get to fulfill their Christmas Dreams.

 © 2012, by Susan J. Charles. All rights reserved.

It was a dark and stormy night. What a trite beginning. But it was true.

My sister Joan and I were sitting in near darkness while the wind and snow swirled outside. The “Storm of the Century” had knocked out power a few hours before. But The Cabin was well stocked with candles and oil lanterns. It wasn’t the first time electricity had failed way out there.

We call it “The Cabin,” but actually it’s a very large, two-story log house built on land our family has owned for generations. There was once a cabin where we were now, but it had been torn down years ago and the house put in its place. But our family had tried to preserve some of the rustic feelings the old cabin had had. In the center of the living room was a huge fireplace that had a couple of iron hooks on each side that could swing over the fire holding pots for cooking. There was also a grate that could drop down over the fire for holding skillets. And the original oil lamps were carefully preserved and maintained for use during the power failures.

In back of the house was a large water tank that filled from a spring further up the mountain. It was placed high enough that we always had good water pressure. Even when the power did go off, we still had water. Unfortunately, the water heater was electric so, in event of an outage, we only had cold water unless we heated some over the fire.

But usually we were very comfortable. There was enough firewood in the huge stack on the large front porch to last a whole winter. So we weren’t worried when the lights went out.

We’d come up for our traditional Christmas stay at The Cabin. Since we knew a storm was on the way, we’d stopped to buy more than our usual amount of food. We had to make several trips to get it all into the kitchen. It took nearly an hour to get it all into the refrigerator, freezer and pantry.

Then Mom drove over to pick up our Aunt Karen and her daughter, our cousin Cindy. They lived about an hour and a half away, so we knew it would be over three hours before Mom would be back.

At least that was the plan.

My sister, Joan and I had passed the time playing games on our laptop and cell phones and texting other fifth grade friends. We were pretty far out in the New Hampshire mountains, but still had a couple of bars of cell phone service. Our laptop had a cell connection, which usually took up one bar, and the cell phone the other. But since there was no one else within miles, we didn’t worry took much about hogging the bandwidth.

Finally, we noticed the wind was starting to pick up. We stopped and started recharging the phone and laptop. Joan started making us dinner. About that time, the cell rang. It was Mom.

“The storm has moved faster than they thought,” she said. “The roads here are already impassable. I’m going to stay here with Aunt Karen until they are clear. You guys get a fire going and check around The Cabin to see that everything is closed up tight. It’s really blowing here. You might want to get out the down comforters just in case.”

“We’ll be fine, Mom,” I said. “Don’t worry, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

I closed the cell phone and Joan and I walked around the outside of The Cabin checking windows and doors. Everything was tight. As we came back inside, I grabbed an armload of firewood and carried it to the fireplace.

We’d just finished eating when the phone rang again. It was Mom again. “The power just went out here. It’s really coming down. We’re already getting drifts. Since the cell phone is your only link with the rest of the world, get it charged while you can and then turn it off. No games or texting. Check it every few hours for messages, but preserve the battery change. If you don’t have electricity, you won’t be able to recharge it if it runs down. Remember, just keeping it on will discharge it.”

“Good idea, Mom.”

“And oh, if the power does go off, don’t open the fridge much. You might even want to put a bowl of snow or ice in it to help keep the food cold.”

You’d guess that Mom had lived through power outages at The Cabin before, wouldn’t you?

“Stay warm. Keep an eye on the weather. They were saying the roads are closed just before the TV went off, and I don’t know how long this is going to last.”

We again assured Mom that everything would be fine and hung up. By that time, the snow had reached us. Mom wasn’t kidding. It was coming down fast and furious. I gathered some of the firewood and built a fire.

We turned on the TV and started to hear about the storm. Apparently a couple of air currents from different directions were converging right over us and combining with another current with a lot of moisture in it. Where they usually talked about how many inches we’d get, this time they were talking about how many feet. I went to the storage closet and made sure we had the snow shovel handy.

By the time I came back into the big living room with the shovel, the snow was really flying. It seemed to be blowing straight across, rather than falling down. The sidewalk in front of The Cabin was already covered.

“If this keeps up, we’ll have to break out the snowshoes,” I said.

“At least we got all the suitcases and food in,” Joan replied. “I wonder if the water heater has had time to get the water warm?”

“I’m guessing yes. We turned it on as soon as we got here.”

“Then I’m getting a bath while we’re sure we’ve got hot water.”

While Joan was in the tub, I went around and pulled all our heavy drapes shut for better insulation. I also threw another log on the fire to keep the room warm. I decided I’d grab a shower after Joan was finished with the bath.

By the time I got out of the shower, Joan had finished fixing hamburgers and beans. We finished up with a couple of cups of hot chocolate. As we ate, the howl of the wind increased. Just as we were finishing our cups, there was a large “Whoosh” and the lights went off.

“I’m glad it waited until after we’d cooked,” I said as I reached for the oil lamp we kept on the dining table. The fire gave us enough light to see by until I could lift the lamp chimney and light the wick. As I lowered the chimney back down, a soft glow appeared, lighting the table. Moving around the room, I quickly lit two more. The soft glow from the lamps lit the room. While not as bright as the electric lights, the lamps gave the room a cozy feeling.

We peeked out the drapes. Outside it was pitch black, except for the light from the window. There was a solid white square where the light hit the blowing snow.

“I’m guessing the power is going to be out for quite a while,” I said. “No telling where the line went down and how long it’s going to take for a crew to get out and fix it.”

“We’d better let Mom know,” Joan said.

“Okay, but let’s be quick and conserve the battery.”

We made the call and Mom assured us she would call the power company. She agreed it would probably be some time before it would get fixed. “We’re still out here in town, too. Turn off the phone now. Be sure you have enough wood inside and check back with me tomorrow morning.”

We sat around for a little while listening to the wind. Without the TV or our laptop, there wasn’t much to do. We decided to call it an early night. I banked the fire and blew out the lamps we wouldn’t need upstairs.

“Grab a flashlight, just in case,” I told Joan. We each picked up a flashlight and lamp and headed to our bedrooms.

Listening to the wind, I was glad our beds had the deep down comforters on them. I snuggled under the comforter and listened to the wind until I fell asleep.

I woke up to the smell of bacon cooking. Joan was up and cooking breakfast over the fire. I really hated to stick my leg out from under the comforter. It was freezing cold out there!

I pulled on my slippers and ran to the bathroom. The water was very cold and sure woke me up in a hurry. Fortunately, when The Cabin was being rebuilt, experience dictated that a pipe from the fireplace be run up through the water tank so our water didn’t freeze. It was cold enough, even with the heat source, but at least we did have running water.

“We’re going to need more wood,” Joan said as I came downstairs. I put on my heavy winter boots and coat and went out the front door.

Outside things were still a whiteout. I couldn’t see more than a few feet beyond the front steps. There were drifts covering the railings on both sides of the steps and the snow in the front reached almost to the top of the railings. Fortunately, the wood was stacked against the house, so it wasn’t covered. I piled several logs on my arm and went back inside. I was amazed how cold my face had gotten in the little time I was outside.

Joan swung the hook with the teapot back off the fire and picked it up by the handle while wearing oven gloves. We’d learned that any cooking utensils hanging over the open fire could get very hot.

She poured steaming water into the cups and I added hot chocolate mix as she shoveled eggs and bacon onto our plates. The toast was a little blacker than usual, but it had been a while since we cooked over the fire and Joan was a little out of practice.

The hot food tasted really great after my brief journey into the arctic cold.

After breakfast, I put the dishes into the sink, ran some water and added a little water from the big teapot. Then I refilled the teapot to the brim and put it back on the hook in the fireplace. It would stay there, filled with warm water, until the power came back on.

I hurried through washing the breakfast things and then we turned on the cell phone and called Mom.

There’d been no change, except the storm had gotten even worse than they’d feared last night. It would be at least two or three days before it stopped snowing and could be much longer before the power company could even think about the lines out in the country.

“Since we’ve both got to conserve our batteries, turn off the cell phones and just check in at 10 a.m. and 4 p.m.,” Mom said. “If something comes up, we can leave voice mails and talk at that time. Love you both. Be good!”

“As if we had any choice,” I snorted as I turned off the phone.

There really wasn’t much to do. We cracked the drapes to let in light, but didn’t open them very far to keep the cold out. We’d brought some books and read them while snuggled up in the fur blankets on the sofas by the fireplace. Every so often, I’d get up and put another log on the fire.

After a while, we hauled out the old board games we kept at The Cabin. But they were old and not nearly as exciting as video games. Soon we were completely bored. “Well, we could clean The Cabin up a bit,” Joan suggested.

I glanced around. “Looks okay to me.”

“Just a thought.”

We read some more.

Finally, Joan made some sandwiches for lunch, washed down with some ice-cold lemonade. A while after that, I headed to the bathroom to get rid of the lemonade. I finished my business, flushed, and returned to the living room. Joan was looking at me.

“What?”

“You left the door open.”

“So? It isn’t the first time you’ve heard me going.”

“No, but…” Joan paused and gave me a very intensive look. “What’s it like to have a penis?”

“What do you mean? It’s just there. It’s always been there.”

“But how does it feel?"

I had to think about that. “It gets in the way sometimes. I’ve got to watch when I zip up my pants so that I don’t pinch it. Believe me, you only want to do that once. But otherwise, it just sort of hangs there.

“Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know,” Joan kind of shifted, looking away. “I mean…it just looks like it would be so handy to have one. Just one zip and you can pee. Especially out in the woods. When I want to go, I have to pull everything down and squat. Mom really keeps on me about squatting in public restrooms. Unlike me, you just aim and go, not touching anything.”

“Well, it’s not just my penis,” I said. “I’ve also got my nuts to watch out for. You really don’t want to know what it feels like to have them hit. I’ve always wondered why boys’ bikes have that bar right there.”

“It just seems like boys have it so much easier,” Joan said. Then she stood up. “Come on, I want to watch you write your name in the snow.”

I’d done that a couple of years ago, showing off for her when we were in third grade. She’s thought it was kind of gross at the time, but she had kept watching.

Since there wasn’t much else to do, I decided to go along with her request. But I needed a couple of more glasses of lemonade before I was ready. We put on our coats and boots and went out into the blowing snow on the front porch.

We went over to the drift to the right of the door. I pulled off my glove and immediately my hand felt like it was freezing in the wind. I pulled off the other glove and immediately stuck both my hands in my pockets. “Boy, this is cold!”

“So hurry up,” Joan called over the wind. I unzipped and pulled it out. That was a mistake. It was immediately cold. I wasn’t sure I could get anything going.

“Hurry up!” Joan yelled. I pushed and pushed and finally felt the flow start. As the yellow liquid began to shoot out the end of my penis, I started to direct it. I spelled out the letters in cursive. S-t-e-p-h. That was as far as I could go. My pee stopped flowing. I held it for a few seconds more and shoved it back into my pants. I didn’t even stop to zip as I ran to the door.

It took a while for me to stop shivering enough to even get my coat off. I kept rubbing my hands. My cock felt like it was frozen solid. I hurried to the fireplace and dropped my pants and briefs, exposing myself to the heat. It still felt cold. Finally, I pushed it back between my legs to get it warm. I felt like I had an icicle between my legs.

Gradually, things started to warm up. I looked up to see Joan holding a pair of her panties out to me. “Put these on,” she said. “They will hold it up against you better than your briefs would.”

I didn’t even think, I just pulled the panties up and sat down on one of the fur blankets. Slowly, everything warmed up. I even got to the point when I couldn’t feel my cold cock against my bottom anymore.

Finally, I reached down and felt a smooth space between my legs. Somehow, while pushing my cock back between my legs, my nuts had decided to go on back in me. Not that I could blame them, as cold as everything had been.

Joan glanced over as I reached down. “You look like a girl.”

“If we’d stayed out any longer, I would have been one,” I replied. “Everything would have frozen and broken off.”

“And you gave yourself a new name,” Joan continued. “Steph. Short for Stephanie.”

“That’s all the farther I could get,” I replied. “I got too cold before I could get the e and n out.”

“No, I think you were telling me something,” Joan teased. She stood up and pulled off her jeans.

“Here, put these on. You can be the girl today, Stephanie.” Before I could respond, she grabbed my briefs and jeans. Since I was getting cold without pants on, I pulled hers on. They were tighter than mine. They hugged my legs and crotch, providing further reinforcement to the way the panties were holding me in. I fastened the top button and zipped them up. Looking down, I realized Joan was right. I did look like a girl with her pants on.

Meanwhile, Joan pulled down her panties and put on my briefs. “If you’re going to be the girl, I’ll be the boy,” she said.

“You don’t look much like a boy with those baggy briefs,” I replied.

“You’re right,” she said. She ran over to the chest with all the recreation equipment in it. Rooting around, she came up with a couple of golf balls that she promptly slid into the briefs.

“That helps some,” I said. “But something pretty major is missing.”

Joan thought for a minute and then went to the refrigerator. She opened the door and quickly pulled out a hot dog. She washed it, dried it off and stuck it down the briefs.

“How’s this?”

I had to admit that the addition of the hot dog, together with the golf balls, gave her a pretty male look.

“Okay, you look like a boy.” I said. “You can be the boy and I’ll be the girl.”

“Fine,” she said as she pulled my jeans on. Then she reached up and unfastened her gold chain with the small cross that she always wore. Putting it on the table, she pulled off her power-blue turtleneck sweater and the cami she wore under it.

“Here, put these on and give me your flannel shirt and tee shirt.”

We exchanged tops. As I pulled the shiny cami on, I shivered as I felt the nylon slide across my chest and sides. I was almost instantly warmer, in spite of the fact that only thin straps covered my shoulders. It was amazing that something so thin could be warm like that. And the sweater was incredibly soft against my skin. I felt like I was being hugged by down feathers.

Joan, in the meantime, pulled on my tee shirt and buttoned up the flannel shirt. Then she picked up the gold chain and fastened it around my neck. I looked down at the small gold cross hanging against my chest.

“But this is your most prized possession,” I said. “Every since Grandma gave it to you, you always wear it.”

“It belongs to the oldest girl in the family,” she replied. “And right now, that’s you.”

I was stunned. Somehow this felt more serious than the game I had been taking it for. I thought for a minute, then nodded and reached up and pulled off the scrunchie holding my hair in its usual low ponytail, letting my blond hair, courtesy of our Scandinavian heritage, hang free. I handed the scrunchie to Joan who swept her hair into a ponytail much lower than she usually wore and fastened it. Then she looked at me.

“Hi Stephanie, I’m your brother.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir,” I said trying to curtsey. It was kind of awkward in jeans, and we both giggled.

I ran my fingers through my hair to fluff it out, and looked at my “brother.” “Okay, now what do we do?”

“Simple. You’re the girl and I’m the boy. We just do what the girl and boy would do.”

That made sense, so I reached over and picked up one of the books Joan had just finished. It was one of her yucky romances, but if I was playing the girl today, I’d read a little of it.

“By the way, ‘brother,’ we could use a little more wood on the fire.”

She grinned and walked over and proceeded to build up the fire. Then she went and pulled on my boots and heavy coat and went outside to bring in a couple of armloads of wood for later.

As she came in, I noticed she was walking a little funny. She usually took steps with one foot right in front of the other. Now she was walking with her legs further apart.

She put the wood in the holder and turned around to take off my heavy coat and gloves.

“I see now why you walk the way you do,” she said. “This stuff, especially the balls kind of push your legs apart.”

“And you really don’t want to get them squeezed between your legs,” I replied. “It can really hurt in a hurry.”

I, on the other hand, realized that I had nothing hanging down between my legs. I tried a few steps, putting one foot right in front of the other, like Joan usually did. It felt really good not having to worry about my package between my thighs.

After a few more steps, I kind of relaxed and let my hips sway a little.

“Wow! Look at that girl with her sexy walk,” my “brother” said.

“It feels nice,” I replied. “I now see why you walk this way.”

By that time, it was time to check in again. We turned the phone on and listened to the voice mail on it.

“It’s still coming down here,” Mom’s voice said. “We did get power restored, but the lights keep flickering. A lot of branches are coming down, so we’re not sure how long we’ll have electricity. They say this is going to keep up for at least two more days, so let me know how you guys are doing.”

Joan hit the “reply” button and told Mom that we were doing fine and not to worry. Then we fired up the laptop and looked at the weather. Somehow the storm had stalled right over us and was pulling moisture in from both the Great Lakes and the Atlantic and dumping it right on our part of the country. Two more days was the minimum they thought the storm would last, but it could be longer.

Once we saw that, we quickly shut the laptop down to save the battery. Then, I felt an urge and headed to the bathroom. “Don’t forget, girls sit to pee,” Joan yelled.

“I can hardly wait to see you pee standing,” I shouted back.

For some reason, I felt shy as I entered the bathroom, so I shut the door. After doing my business, I tucked my thing back between my legs and pulled on my panties and jeans. As I washed my hands, I realized I’d thought of Joan’s panties as “mine.” I wondered where our game was going to go.

As I came out, I saw that Joan was rummaging around in one of the storage closets. She soon came out with a short length of clear plastic tubing left over from our attempt to have an aquarium a couple of summers ago. As I watched, she undid her jeans and pulled out her hot dog “penis.” She got a knife and made a cut along the length of the hot dog. She pushed the tubing in the cut and then used a bit of tape to secure it in.

“Now where does Mom keep that stuff?” she said to herself as she headed to Mom’s bedroom. She emerged carrying a tube of something with a big “KY” on the side and went into the bathroom. A few minutes later, she emerged with her pants zipped back up and the boyish budge showing again.

“Get your coat on,” she ordered.

We bundled up and trekked to the door. We emerged again into the howling, blowing snow. The drifts were even higher than they had been. My yellow signature was long since covered up.

“Watch,” Joan said. She went over to the drift and unzipped her pants. She pulled out the end of the hot dog and pointed it at the drift. As I watched, a yellow stream started to come out of the tube sticking out of the end of the hot dog. She moved the hot dog around and began to write in the snow. She made a cursive “J.” Next came the “O.” Then, where I expected the “A” in her name to come, she made a sweeping “H,” followed by the “N.” Then, she stuffed the hot dog back into her pants and we went back into the warm. As we took off our coats, she looked at me with a look of triumph on her face.

“See,” she gloated, “I’m your brother, John.”

“Wow John! You did as good as I did earlier. Congratulations. I guess you are a boy.”

She, no, maybe I should say, “he” looked pleased. “Anything you can do…”

Right then I resolved that for the rest of the day, I was going to be the best girl I could be. I went and fixed us a couple of cups of hot chocolate to take the chill off. Then I started in on Joan’s book. I was surprised that the book wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. In fact, it was a pretty good story. I really flew through the pages.

Somewhere along the line, I was startled to realize that I’d been picturing myself as the leading female character and was feeling the strong man’s arms sweeping me up and carrying me into the castle. Boy was that weird!

As it started to get dark, I reluctantly closed the book and went to start cooking supper. I asked John to build up the fire and get a pot of water boiling. Since we’d both been taught to cook over open flames, I didn’t have any trouble fixing a meal. For some reason, I decided to cook hamburgers rather than hot dogs. I took a little extra time to mix some egg, dried onion and steak sauce into the hamburger meat before cooking the burgers.

I poured some of the hot water into a saucepan and added a pack of dried mixed vegetables. I asked John to get out the buns and condiments, while I set the table. Soon, our meal was ready.

“Steph, this is really good!” John said. “We should have you cook all the time.”

“Thank you, sir,” I replied. “Just remember, you have to do the dishes.”

We didn’t stay up too long after everything was cleaned up and put away. While we had plenty of lamp oil, we really didn’t want to burn up any more than necessary. I told John how to bank the fire and we lit candles to go up to bed.

As we reached the top of the stairs, John turned into my room. “This is the boy’s room,” he said. “The girl’s room is the next one down.”

I nodded and went into what had been Joan’s room. I pulled open the dresser drawers looking for something to sleep in. There were no PJs, only flannel nightgowns. I pulled off my sweater, taking care to keep the gold cross on. The cami came next and I quickly threw the nightgown over me to keep out the cold. I then took off my jeans, but kept my panties on. I was surprised how warm the nightgown was. I took off my shoes and put Joan’s fuzzy slippers on my feet so I could get to the bathroom and do my business. As I pulled up my nightgown, I realized that the only practical way to go was to sit, which I did. I then wiped, tucked and pulled my panties back up and let my nightgown settle back down. I really liked the simplicity of it all.

As I snuggled under the down comforter, I thought about my new status. I was being the girl in the family. I thought it might be fun to find out what that meant. I was soon asleep.

A soft buzzing awoke me the next morning. Joan’s alarm was going off. “Why so early?” I wondered. Then I remembered, I was the girl. It was time go get things going.

After sitting again to do my business, I washed my face and looked at myself in the mirror. Without the scrunchie, my hair fell down to my shoulders. In the nightgown, I really looked a lot like my sister. I decided that this was a chance I didn’t want to pass up. I was going to experience everything about being a girl.

I really didn’t want to change out of the warm nightgown, so I went to Joan’s dresser and pulled out a fresh pair of panties and a pair of lined tights. As I pulled up the panties, I again marveled at how good they felt hugging my lower body closely. The tights warmed my legs and I pulled the fuzzy slippers back on.

I went downstairs and saw that the storm was still blowing. In fact, the porch was almost covered by drifts. It was lucky that I’d gotten the shovel ready, I thought. I’d have a job getting the snow removed so I could reach the woodpile. Wait a minute. That’s the boy’s job. And I was the girl today! Shoveling the snow would be John’s job.

I pulled out an apron and moved to the fireplace to build up the fire. As the flames started to rise on the wood I’d just added, I noticed we were running low. I went back upstairs to the boy’s room and knocked on the door.

“John, up and at it! We need more wood and you’re going to have to shovel the snow to get it.”

I heard a mumbling and what sounded like some cursing.

“Don’t you start using bad words, or I’ll tell Mom,” I shouted. Then I went down to my room.

I took a few minutes looking at the clothes hanging in the closet. There was a beautiful long skirt that I knew I wanted to wear, but not yet. I ended up pulling on a pair of jeans and some high top zip-up boots. I found the cami that matched the panties I’d already put on and pulled a thick sweater over that. As a final step, I picked up the tinted lip-gloss and lined my lips. I brushed out my hair and looked at myself in the full-length mirror. A cute blonde girl with pale pink lips stared back at me. She looked a lot like Joan, but was a different person. For sure, we were sisters, except, that at the moment, I didn’t have a sister.

As I started back downstairs, I passed the open bathroom door. John was standing there with his hot dog out in front of the toilet getting ready to take a whiz.

“Ewueee, gross!” I said. “Shut the door. And if you make a mess, you’ll clean it up.”

I shook my head as I headed down the stairs. I hoped we had some of that laundry detergent that took out smells. I didn’t want my briefs all smelling like warm lunchmeat when I went back to being Stephen.

As I started to fix breakfast, John came down stairs and opened the front door. “My gosh, that’s a lot of snow!” he said.

“That’s why you need to get started,” I replied. “The shovel is right behind the door.” He glared at me.

“Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one who wanted to be the boy,” I said.

He pulled on the heavy parka and gloves and walked outside. Soon I heard the sounds of shoveling.

I heated water and put bacon and eggs into the frying pan. I smeared butter across the bottom of the smaller frying pan and threw in two slices of bread. With the power out, toast was a kind of fried bread.

While things were cooking, I looked around and tried to see things as Mom or Joan would see them. Suddenly there was a kind of mental shift. The place really needed a good cleaning. What I’d seen as okay the day before, now revealed itself to be severely dusty. There were clumps of dirt that had been tracked in. It needed a good once-over and straightening up. Without power, I couldn’t run the vacuum cleaner, but I could clean, dust and sweep.

I went back to the fire and pulled the bacon and eggs out and onto a plate. Then I used the spatula to hold up the half fried bread while I smeared more butter onto the pan. Then I flipped the bread onto the uncooked side. I put milk and cereal on the table, noting that we’d have to start using the powered milk soon. As soon as the toast was done, I put it on our plates and went to call John.

I was impressed when I opened the door. “He” had done a good job clearing the porch, even though the wind was still blowing. There was now a clear path to the woodpile.

“Grab some wood and come in,” I called. “Breakfast is ready.”

After breakfast, while John was doing the dishes, I grabbed the cleaning supplies and headed to the bathroom. John hadn’t done too bad a job standing up. There were only a few spots on the floor. I scrubbed the toilet, shower tub and floor. I straightened the shampoos and lotions and pulled out fresh towels and washcloths. We wouldn’t be able to wash until the power came back on, but we had plenty of spares. We could have quite a contingent of people staying here during some holidays, so we were well supplied.

Then I made the beds and picked the dirty clothes off John’s floor and put them in the hamper with the ones I’d carried from my room earlier. Finally I swept the hall and down the stairs into the main room. John was sprawled on the couch with his legs spread apart. As I came down the stairs I heard a loud “burp!”

I shook my head. “Boys!” I said.

While John read, I dusted everything and then swept the floor. As I did, I looked over at John. “While I’m finishing up, you can check the oil levels and make sure we have enough candles out.”

As he heaved himself off the couch, the sound of a large fart sounded.

“Don’t you have any manners?” I asked.

“Hey, you’re the one who served beans last night.”

Finally, I finished. Then I gave the room a good looking at. It was as clean as I could get it without electricity. It was probably not as good as Mom would like, but I’d only been a girl for about a day.

“Now, Mister Muscles,” I said. “I want you to go up into the attic and bring down the Christmas tree.”

We had an artificial non-flammable tree for Christmas at The Cabin. That was because we always had a traditional Christmas tree with candles. While it was beautiful, candles and a live tree didn’t mix well at all. One wrong breeze and a live tree could become a blazing inferno. That was the reason the original cabin had to be torn down and rebuilt.

As John maneuvered the tree down the stairs, I found the boxes of decorations and carried them down. John carried the tree outside and let it stand in the wind to blow the dust away.

After the tree was set, I began pulling out ornaments and the special things we always put on the tree. I had John get out the wire basket popcorn popper and pop a couple of baskets of popcorn to string for the garlands. I carefully put the candles in their holders and finished with tinsel. Then I went around tying ribbons around lamps and hanging candles in the windows. Our Naivety scene went on the mantle over the fireplace.

When everything was done, I went back upstairs. I partially filled the tub with water and then added boiling water from the teakettle and took a quick bath. I wrapped the heavy towel around me and went back to my room.

I took out Joan’s red nail polish and proceeded to color my finger and toenails. It took a couple of fingers before I started getting it right.

After my nails dried, I took out the long velvet green skirt and chose a white, high-necked long sleeved blouse with lace and red ribbons winding through the lace around the neck and at the cuffs. I put on a matching white cami and panty set and finished with white tights. Then I put on the blouse. It took a little while to figure out how to fasten the buttons in back, but I managed. I pulled my cross up and out of the neck of the blouse before fastening the final button, then tied the red ribbon into a bow. Then I stepped into the long, green skirt and zipped it up. To finish up, I put on Joan’s patent leather Mary Janes and stepped to the vanity to look at myself.

Again I saw the pretty blonde girl looking back at me, but I needed some finishing touches. I brushed my hair back and carefully parted it down the middle. Then I pulled my hair on one side and made a side ponytail, fastening it with a red ribbon. I repeated on the other side so my hair stood out in two bunches. I found some lip-gloss that was redder than the one I’d worn that morning. It made my lips redder to go with my red ribbons. I even put a little on my cheeks. Then I put on the gold and red clip-on earrings from Joan’s jewelry box and slipped on a gold ring.

Taking a last look, I knew I was finished. I was the perfect Christmas girl.

As I walked down the hall, I was conscious of how my legs felt in the tights and skirt. With nothing pressing against my legs but the tights, I almost felt undressed. But I was perfectly decent in my skirt and I loved the way I felt.

As I came down the steps, I heard a whistle from John. “Steph, you are a hot girl!”

“Thank you, brother. Now it’s your turn. Go get cleaned and put on your Christmas suit.”

While John was taking his bath, I put on an apron and started a batch of cookie dough. I stirred the chocolate chips into the dough and spread balls of dough onto the bottom of our Dutch Oven. I hung the oven on the hook and swung it over the fire. I refilled the teakettle with water and put it on the other hook to warm for hot chocolate.

About that time, John called me for some help with his tie. I went up to his room and saw him standing there in his white dress shirt and blue suit. He couldn’t figure out how to tie the red silk tie, so I turned him around stood behind him while I did the knot for the tie.

“Wow, you even did your nails!” he said as he watched my fingers twist the tie into the knot.

“I wanted to look especially nice,” I replied.

“You sure do. I wouldn’t have believed how pretty you are.”

“And I wouldn’t have believed how handsome my brother could be.”

He finished putting on his black wing tip shoes and walked around to get used to wearing them. “These are really stiff,” he said.

“That’s because they only get used for church and Christmas,” I replied. “I…that is Stephen, got out of them as soon as he could.”

We walked back downstairs. The odor of baking cookies filled the room. I swung the hook back from the fire and took off the lid of the Dutch Oven with the special tool it needed. Then I put the fresh-baked cookies onto one of our special Christmas plates. I poured hot water into two cups and added hot chocolate mix.

But before we’d eat, we had one thing to do. I went to the decoration sbox and took out the star for the tip of the tree. I carried it over to John and curtseyed as I handed it to him. As was our tradition, the boy got to place the star on the top of the tree. John looked at the star for a moment and then placed it in its place.

“I’ve never felt so much like the boy.”

“And, dressed like this, I’ve never felt so much like the girl,” I replied.

We looked at each other for a moment and I reached out to take my brother’s hand. “Now, let’s have some cookies,” I grinned.

We laughed and joked as we enjoyed our tree-trimming snack. Then we moved to the couch and John showed me how to smooth my skirt before I sat down so I didn’t wrinkle the beautiful green velvet. Then we started telling each other all the things we needed to know, to be each other.

“Mary Beth wears padding? No way!”

“Way. Actually the only girl in our class who has started developing is Janie. She tried to hide it but we saw her changing in the locker room.”

“Guys really compare the size of their cocks? Why?”

“Then, you start bleeding down there and have to wear pads and pretend like nothing is wrong. I really don’t want to experience that”

“Guys just know who can beat who up. They don’t usually even have to actually fight.”

“Girls join into groups of friends. It’s somewhat for protection, but mainly because we like being together.”

Finally we had exchanged all the information we could think of. It was growing dark and I moved to get the long matches. Striking one, I started lighting the candles on the tree from the top down. That was the girl’s job; just as putting the star on was the boy’s job. I moved very slowly so as to not blow any candles out.

Finally the tree was completely lit and we sat and looked at it. Even though it can be very dangerous, there is nothing so beautiful as a Christmas Tree glowing with the soft light of candles. There is something quiet and noble and warm about such a sight. And I had helped create it. I was overwhelmed with what I had done. And somehow, knowing what I’d done, and how much satisfaction I felt about that, made me realize something.

“John,” I said softly. “I’m really enjoying being a girl.”

“I know,” he replied taking my hand. “You are so good at it. It’s fun being a girl, most of the time.”

We stood there in the silence, looking at each other. Then, I realized that it was silent.

The wind had stopped. We walked to the window, pulled the drape aside and stared out. The clouds were rapidly disappearing and a moon was throwing pale shadows on the snow.

“Oh gosh, we forgot to check in with Mom!” I said.

“I’ll get that,” John said. “You put out the tree.”

We had a special little candlesnuffer that was put on top of the candle flame to put it out. I took almost as much time to blow out the candles as it had to light them. By the time I had finished, John had heard Mom’s message.

“It’s stopped in town, too. Mom isn’t sure when the roads will be clear, but she has called the power company. They’ve got a lot of places out, and they’re not sure how long it will take to get to us.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “It’s just that we are getting low on milk and will have to start using the powered stuff soon.”

“Well, I’ll let the cook worry about that,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

I had thawed a chicken, and soon had the pieces frying over the fire. I stirred powered milk into the mashed potato mix and poured it into the pan of water I had heated, adding about half a stick of butter. Then I poured some frozen peas into another pan of boiling water.

While I was cooking, John went out and started shoveling the snow off the porch again. At one point, I heard him stop and I went to the window to see what was the matter. I looked out to see him standing there writing his name in the snow again. He’d gotten pretty good at it. Better than Stephen had been. When he finished, he picked up the shovel again and cleared the yellow “John” off the porch.

He brought more wood in as I set the table and lit the oil lamps. We ate mostly in silence. I think we were both thinking about all we had learned about our adopted genders that afternoon. I knew I’d never look at some of the girls in our class in the same way again.

Soon after John had finished doing the dishes, we went up to bed again. As I crawled into bed in my warm flannel nightgown, I felt sad that I’d have to soon leave such nightwear behind.

The next day was sunny but cold. It seemed like little jewels sparkled on every tree branch. It was so bright that we had to put on our sunglasses when we looked out the window.

It was a little after noon, when we heard something. I was sitting on the couch wearing a thick red cowl sweater and blue plaid miniskirt over some thick dark blue tights. I’d been reading when I heard a kind of buzzing far off. John heard it too and we went to the door. Far down the mountain, we heard the sounds of a chair saw. Someone was cutting wood.

About an hour later, the lights suddenly came on. We had our electricity back! Soon, we heard the unmistakable sound of a snowmobile coming up the mountain. A man, wearing a Power Company hard hat and earmuffs came into view. He stopped in front of The Cabin and we went out to greet him. “Is your power back on? he asked.

We assured him it was.

“Tree fell on the line and knocked it down. We had to cut it up to get to the line and fix it. We left the wood, if you want to add it to your store.”

“How are the roads?” I asked.

“Still closed to all but utility and emergency vehicles. Some pretty high drifts all over the place. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“We’re fine. We’re used to roughing it up here in the winter. But thanks for getting us lights again. It makes things easier.”

He said to call the company if we had any more problems, and roared away. It was only as I started back into the house that I realized I’d been talking to him dressed as a girl. And he hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t noticed. I’d been wearing female clothing long enough that it was natural to me. I hadn’t given it a thought to showing myself to a stranger as a girl.

I stood before the fire to warm up. Tights help keep the legs warm, but it’s still cold in a skirt in sub zero weather.

Since the power was back on, I could use the stove again. I’d been waiting for that to do some very special baking. I got out a very special cookbook and looked up a recipe. I spent the rest of the afternoon baking. I’d just finished putting my baking away when we heard the sounds of a snowmobile again.

“I wonder if something else is wrong with the line,” I said.

“No, that sounds like two machines,” John said.

We walked to the window just in time to see two snowmobiles stop in front of The Cabin. Three heavily bundled figures got off and trudged up the steps. I opened the front door.

“Can I help…” Just then the lead figure took off her goggles. “Mom!” I cried, flinging myself against her in a big hug. I backed off just as fast. Her jacket was cold.

As the other two figures took off their jackets, I saw that they were my Aunt Karen and cousin Cindy.

“I thought the roads were still closed.”

“To cars and trucks,” Mom replied. “But not to snowmobiles. And we couldn’t miss Christmas. Come on out and help us bring in supplies.”

John and I pulled on our boots and went out to help. Mom untied some sacks of fresh food, and a few boxes that looked suspiciously like presents, off back of the snowmobile she was driving. We carried everything into the kitchen area and I took charge of putting everything away. Among the other things, there was fresh milk.

All the time we were putting things away, I kept up a running commentary about what we had been doing and what I had cooked over the open fire. As we finished, I noticed, for the first time, how Mom, Aunt Karen and Cindy were looking at me. Then I realized I had ribbons in my hair and was still wearing the sweater and miniskirt. I stopped and looked down.

“It seems I have a new daughter,” Mom said.

“Oh, we were just playing around,” I said. “I was being Stephanie and Joan was playing at being John. I’ll go get changed.”

“No, wait,” Mom said. “I think we’d like to get to know Stephanie and John a little better.”

So, we stayed as we were for the rest of the evening. I helped Aunt Karen and Cindy fix supper, while Mom unpacked the boxes she had bought. As I suspected, they were full of colorfully wrapped presents that she placed under the tree.

“I think this is the nicest this tree has looked in a long time,” Mom said.

“Stephanie did most of it,” John told her.

“Well she sure has an eye for decorating.”

It was nice not to have to do all the cooking. Everything tasted so good! And it was great to be with Mom, Aunt Karen and Cindy again. We kept talking and laughing, and they told us about what the blizzard had done in town.

Later, Cindy and I went to my–that is–Joan’s room to talk.

“I’ve never seen you so lively,” Cindy said. “I’m surprised, but you make a really good girl.”

“It was just playing.”

“I’m not so sure. The way you act, the way you’re moving. It seems like you’ve been doing this all your life.”

“Well, there is one more thing I want to do as a girl. And I’d like you to help me. If you would.”

“What’s that?”

So, I told her and she agreed to help. Later that night, we put on our nightgowns and snuggled into bed. Cindy had her own room, but said she wanted to spend time with her new cousin. We talked and giggled for a long time. Just before we turned out the lights, I reset my alarm.

It was still dark when the alarm went off. Cindy and I used the bathroom and washed up. Then she went to her room to put on her underwear. I put on a pair of white panties and was starting to pick up a white cami when Cindy came back, holding a training bra.

“Here, you should wear this this morning.”

Standing there in her bra and panties, Cindy helped me fasten the bra. As I turned around to face her, she gave a quick glance to my flat crotch.

“Wow! You look just like me.”

“And both of us are showing a little more in the chest department than we really have,” I said smiling.

We put on white tights and tip toed down the hall to the storage closet. There we pulled out two white robes and put them on. Then I took out a crown of greens and a box of candles. We put four new long candles into the holders in the crown. I started to hand the crown to Cindy but she shook her head.

“This year it’s your turn,” she whispered.

We returned to my room and took some time brushing our long blonde hair so that it surrounded our faces and hung straight down. Finally we put on white satin ballet slippers and tip toed downstairs.

Cindy started a pot of coffee while I retrieved my baking from yesterday. When everything was ready, I placed the crown of candles on my head and Cindy lit them. Then I picked up the tray with the cups, cream, sugar and the Lussekatter–the traditional St. Lucia buns that I had baked the day before. Cindy followed with the pot of coffee.

We climbed to the top of the stairs and stood in the hallway and started to sing:

Natten gá¥r tunga fjá¤t
rund gá¥rd och stuva;
kring jord, som sol fá¶rlá¤t,
skuggorna ruva.
Dᥠi vá¥rt má¶rka hus,
stiger med tá¤nda ljus,
Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia.

Natten gá¥r stor och stum
nu há¶rs dess vingar
i alla tysta rum
sus som av vingar.
Se, pᥠvá¥r trá¶skel stá¥r
vitklá¤dd med ljus i há¥r
Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia.

Má¶rkret ska flykta snart
ur jordens dalar
sᥠhon ett underbart
ord till oss talar.
Dagen ska á¥ter ny
stiga ur rosig sky
Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia.

As we switched to the English version of the Santa Lucia Song, Cindy began to sing in harmony to my strong soprano.

Night walks with a heavy step
Round yard and hearth,
As the sun departs from earth,
Shadows are brooding.
There in our dark house,
Walking with lit candles,
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!

Night walks grand, yet silent,
Now hear its gentle wings,
In every room so hushed,
Whispering like wings.
Look, at our threshold stands,
White-clad with light in her hair,
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!

Darkness shall take flight soon,
From earth's valleys.
So she speaks
Wonderful words to us:
A new day will rise again
From the rosy sky…
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!

By that time, the doors to three bedrooms had opened. As we finished the song, we heard clapping. Then we went into Aunt Karen’s bedroom and served her coffee and buns. We did the same with John across the hall and ended up in Mom’s room.

“Oh, Stephanie, you make a very beautiful Santa Lucia,” Mom said. “But where on earth did you get Lussekatter?

“I baked them yesterday, after the electricity came back on,” I replied. “I didn’t want to try them over the fire.”

After we served Mom, Cindy and I went back downstairs and had our own coffee and buns. The others soon joined us.

The Sankta Lucia ceremony usually happens on December 13 in Sweden when the oldest girl in the family wears the crown of light and serves the family in their beds. Because of school and work schedules, our family has had to modify the ceremony, so we’d chosen to have it start our Christmas celebration. In the past, I’d always been so jealous of Joan and Cindy looking so beautiful in their white robes. I’d known the song, both in Swedish and English since I was a very little boy and had always wanted to participate. But it was just for girls. This year, I’d finally gotten to fulfill my dreams.

John came up and gave me a big hug. “You look so beautiful. You’re perfect. I never realized how left out the boy in the family could feel.”

“So now it’s time for Joan to come back for Christmas,” I replied. “I miss my sister.”

“Only if you stay Stephanie. I’ve really grown to like my sister in the past few days.”

So Mom had two daughters for Christmas that year. Joan, Cindy and I really bonded and had so much fun that day. Mom and Aunt Karen didn’t seem to mind the extra girl. A few of Stephen’s presents would wait for another day to try on, but overall it was one of the best Christmases seen at The Cabin.

I ended up staying Stephanie for the entire vacation. It meant we had a few extra washings of Joan’s clothes since two of us were wearing them, but that was okay. I found I really liked wearing training bras and having little bumps in my sweaters. So much so that, when the roads got plowed, Mom took me to town to buy a few of my own.

As we packed to return home, I was thinking how much I enjoyed being Stephanie. I wondered if Mom would mind having another daughter around. Or perhaps Joan and I could just switch. I wasn’t sure how Joan would feel about that, but yesterday Mom was complaining that we seemed to be going through packages of hot dogs at a record rate.

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Comments

Mixed blessings...

Andrea Lena's picture

...it's all wonderful and magical and fanciful. And then I step a bit too far into the story and remember the regrets I've had over Sankta Lucia moments of my own. When my sister wore a dress for our First Holy Communion and I wished I could as well. Or the times where she'd act like a tomboy, but I had no opportunity to fill her little girl 'void?' A lovely and heartwarming present for Christmas. One of the nicest stories I've ever read. Thank you!

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Susan Jean Charles, I found

lights06.gifHot Dogs And Candleslights06.gifChristmas At The Cabinlights06.gifto be a very sweet storylights06.gif ,

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

We Scandinavians know how to enjoy our Jul...

Ole Ulfson's picture

Susan,

I enjoyed your delightful story on so many levels it would be impossible to state them all.

One, the least of them, is that I'm Danish American (mostly) and knew the customs.

The Julenisser are up at my house and the Dannebrog are strung on the tree along with a few Julehjerte!

Glædelig jul og godt nytår to all at BCTS!!!

Your friend,

Ole

We are each exactly as God made us. God does not make mistakes!

Gender rights are the new civil rights!

Susan!

LOL that last line really cracked me up (New Englandish {I guess} for made me laugh).

I'm very impressed by the Sankta Lucia song. It is very much about the solstice, the days/sunlight becoming shorter and shorter and at the Arctic Circle for a day or so the sun does not rise, but then comes again and the days begin to get slightly longer. This is the Pagan (Wiccan, Celtic, Norse, etc.) Yule celebration. In the high latitudes, when the sun threatens to or actually leaves, I can see how important this Holy-day was and is. I guess St. Lucia must be a Christian add-on to the Pagan tradition.

Stephanie getting girl time and finding that it's wonderful was certainly happy and sweet; I'm glad the adult sisters accepted/enjoyed the children's explorations. Thank you!

Hugs and Bright Blessings,
Renee

Midsummer's Night

You should be in Sweden for Midsummer's Night, when the sun never really sets. Plentiful homemade spirits are consumed, and at least out in the country, people dance naked around bonfires.

Liz

Sephrena, that 'pun'

is a groanerrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Very nice

A very nice story. Both siblings enjoyed the change. Mom did not get crazy, but will that change if Stephanie remains in the picture rather than Stephen

Rami

RAMI

It’s been years

It’s been years, and this is still, I think, one of the sweetest, most magical stories on this site.