Meatloaf, three ways.

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Goldstream Christmas

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Twas the night before Christmas in Goldstream, Alaska. "Could it get any colder," said Papa,"I'll ask yer?" The hills were all covered with homes old and new Neat cabins and trailers, and tarps made of blue. The stockings were taped to the table with duct Hanging them by the woodstove would have pushed our luck. The children were snuggled all warm in their beds While visions of Hot Licks danced in their heads. And Papa in his long johns, and me in my fleece Had just settled down for a nip, and some peace. When out in the yard there arose such a racket, Like the dogs when they foller a rabbit to track it. Away to the doorway I went with a light Grumpy as heck and most ready to fight. The moon on the breast of the old, hard-packed snow Showed all of the places the dogs like to go. When what to my wondering eyes should appear But a dogsled, eight huskies, and a dude with a beard He looked fat and jolly tho' the dogs were a barking I saw on his bumper "Ivor...
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