Anecdotal Evidence

Christmas Angel (No, Not Tim Allen): The Story of Mrs. Claus

As of late, I’ve been in a bit of a blogging slump. Maybe because I’m in the process of moving and have a lot of other stuff on my mind, like the exploding washing machine, which by the way, I’m thinking of writing a two-person *musical about. Or maybe my slump started when the temperature dropped, cueing my hibernation. Whatever caused it, my post ideas are lacking. My notebook reads as follows:

Blog ideas

  • Creature movies
  • I Relate to Shrek
  • Emily’s Book Club: Like Oprah’s, Except Not
  • Great Advice From My Cat

The Shrek idea is crossed out because, oh ya, **I already wrote that. I just haven’t been in the right mood, but an adorable Trib article brought me back to life and put me in the Christmas spirit. Jean Rowe of Greensburg is the real Mrs. Claus.


Jean Rowe has been acting as Mrs. Claus in the Greensburg parade for the last billion years or so. She has no chill when it comes to Christmas and says, “When people say they don’t like Christmas, it takes all the spirit out of living.” She has over 160 nutcrackers in her home, and “that’s not counting the other figurines.” They don’t divulge any details about the other figurines, but I have a wild imagination and I’m intrigued. And just in case you were worried, her snow-white hair is all natural. Her daughter says, “She is the real deal,” and I genuinely believe she could be, because we’ve all seen the life-changing documentary, The Santa Clause with American hero, Tim Allen.

I have to thank Jean Rowe. She made me realize that my writing slump is simply the ghost of Jacob Marley haunting me. All I need is some Christmas cheer and the vision of this sweet, sweet lady riding along in the Greensburg Christmas parade.



*The Washing Mach-Musical (working title)

(Up stage, singing in the key of E)
Dammit! The machine is overflowing.
(Rolling my eyes, singing deep vibrato)
Shut up.
(Singing louder now)
No, seriously, it’s coming down the stairs.
(Eyes rolling double time)
Shut up.
(Grabbing his head, he begins choreography)
I’m not kidding!
(Singing in a whisper, suddenly realizing he might be telling the truth)
Shut up?
(Spotlight hits me and a single tear rolls down my face)

**How I relate to Shrek.

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