Chapter 13 - December
“Listen, AJ,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Do you hear that?”
Applejack, standing beside me, shot a perplexed look.
“Er...hear what, sugarcube?” she asked curiously. “I don’t hear anythin’, except for a few ponies.”
“Exactly!” I said with a slightly off putting grin. “Nothing! It’s December 1, and I can’t hear any music.”
Applejack and I were currently standing in the entrance of Barnyard Bargains. With the end of the harvest and cider season, we were now bracing ourselves for winter, and chief amongst our concerns was ensuring we had a good full pantry. Of course, the majority of the essentials we had already. From the farms crops we had fresh fruit and vegetables, along with a good supply of milk, cheese and eggs, grain, preserves,, not to mention plenty of firewood. But there were a few things that required a trip to the market for, mostly little luxuries, as well as essentials like toiletries. Granny usually went out shopping once a week, either her or Applejack. But with winter upon us, we always tended to have one big shop to stock up on everything, just in case the weather was heavier than it was supposed to be. It never hurts to be prepared. It was as we’d stepped into the store that I’d, with much joy, noticed the subtle difference between Equestria and Earth.
“Why would anypony be playin’ music in here?” Applejack asked. I shook myself out of my reprieve.
“Sorry, AJ,” I said. “Just an Earth thing. Back home, in stores like this, by now everythin’ would be decked out for our version of Hearth’s Warming Eve, and they’d have speakers playing the same twelve songs on a loop.”
“Hearth’s Warming Eve is almost a month away. Wouldn’t it get a mite tedious hearin’ those songs over and over?”
“Just a touch,” I replied with a grin.
“Then why did folks do it?” I shrugged my shoulders as we started to make our way through the aisles.
“To get folks in the spirit of things, I suppose. Get them thinkin’ about buyin’ stuff for Christmas. It wasn’t just annoying though. Playing those songs that you only hear at Christmas for two months of the year kinda took away...some of the magic I suppose, some of the excitement of Christmas. My family didn’t put up any decorations until the week before. But some of our neighbours would have all their lights and tree set up as soon as December rolled around.”
“Well, luckily for you, Bones,” AJ said with a smile as she grabbed something or other from our list. “Equestria ain’t like that. Hearth’s Warming decorations go up when it’s time, not a month before.”
“Just another reason I love it here,” I said, before adding, with a coy smile. “Well, that and you.”
Applejack chuckled at that.
“Dang, Bones! That was cheesy. Even for one of Rarity’s romance novels.”
We slowly continued to wind our way around the store. It was one of the few things that really reminded me of Earth. Equestria has a fair bit of overlap, but often there’s differences. But shopping at the supermarket was pretty much the same, apart from the happy absence of looping music that no doubt drove the entire staff slowly crazy over the years. Just like anywhere else, you got a cart, worked your way around and then paid for everything at the checkout.
By the time we were done about twenty five minutes later, we’d got quite a bit of stuff, a mixture of essentials, and a few luxuries. We certainly wouldn’t have any trouble seeing ourselves through to spring. Heck, the snow could stay until March like it did back in the 60’s and we’d still have more than enough to get by. After settling up, we loaded everything into the cart I brought along with us. We had way too much to carry back on our own. And of course, as the stallion in the relationship, I had the job of pulling said cart.
The air was decidedly chilly as we walked through Ponyville. We’d had the odd frosty night, but this was the first real cold snap of the winter. It wouldn’t be too long now before the snow came. There were still a few things on the farm we needed to do before that. Once the snow came down, it would make work difficult, to the point that the farm more or less shut down entirely, apart from the market stall and keeping an eye out for pests in the orchards. The big thing to do was to get the trees all prepared, raking the mulch back away from them and fitting the trunk guards to protect their bark from getting nibbled over the winter months when other food was scarce.
Before all that though, Applejack and I had another job that needed seeing to. It was just getting up to three in the afternoon now, and the school would be letting out. Neither of us had any classes at the School of Friendship today, although I had one tomorrow. We were all just watching the calendar for the 20th, which was when school would break up for the winter holidays. And right now, I imagine Apple Bloom was doing the same as the school day drew to a close. Given that it was getting dark at around half past four now, AJ had made it clear to her little sister that she wasn’t to walk home unaccompanied. Not that there was anything dangerous in Ponyville, but it kept the honest mare happy and her more obsessively protective side in check, so we all acquiesced. Since the two of us were already in town, it made sense to pick her up on the way home.
We arrived at the schoolhouse just as the bell was ringing out the end of the day. Fouls scampered out, followed by Cheerilee and my mum, who helps her out with teaching duties. Apple Bloom was, as ever, with her fellow Crusaders. She quickly picked the two of us out from the crowd of parents. We weren’t exactly easy to miss considering I was hooked up to a cart and all.
“Hey there, Apple Bloom. How was school?” Applejack asked as the filly raced over to us.
“Okay, I guess,” she said, sounding fairly glad to be shot of the place. “But Miss Cheerilee gave us tonnes of math homework to do for next week.”
“Oh, I’m sure Big Mac will be able to help you if you get stuck, AB,” I assured her. Maths is far from my and AJ’s strong suit, whereas Mac is a real genius with numbers.
“And I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to do it all over the weekend,” AJ added. “Now come on. Let’s get you home.”
As the last of the kids streamed out, Cheerilee and my mum appeared at the schoolhouse door. It had been a while since we’d last spoke, so I peeled off.
“You go on ahead, Applejack,” I said, briefly unhitching myself from the cart. “I want to talk with my mom for bit. I’ll bring all the stuff from the store home as soon as I can.”
“Fair enough, Bones,” AJ agreed. “Just make sure you’re back in time to help Big Mac with the trunk guards.”
“I will,” I promised.
With that, the two sisters departed, while I trotted over to the two teachers. Mum spotted me soon enough. There were a few other parents about, chatting with her and Cheerilee. Excusing herself from the little gaggle, she walked over to meet me.
“Hello you,” she said with a smile as I propped myself up on my hind legs to hug her. “How’ve you been?”
“Oh, not too bad,” I replied as I dropped down back onto all fours. “We’re all gettin’ ready to prepare the farm for winter. Me and AJ went around Barnyard Bargains just before we got here to pick up supplies.” I indicated the fully loaded cart. Mum let out a low whistle.
“I know they’re saying the winter’s going to be a bit harsher this year,” she said. “But you look like you’ve got enough to invade France with that lot.” I chuckled.
“Just in case we do get snowed in,” I explained. “And that’s rich for the woman who bought Bovril and powdered milk every December.”
“I still can’t believe ponies don’t have that stuff,” Mum said to herself, shaking her head.
“Probably has something to do with the fact that it comes from beef,” I pointed out. “That and it tastes horrid.”
“It does not!” she shot back hotly. “That stuff saw your grandparents through the wars and me and your father through the miners strikes. There’s no better way to stay warm on a Thursday when you had the rolling blackout and the central heating was off.”
“Still doesn’t mean it tastes any good,” I pointed out teasingly. “Anyway, what have you and Dad been up to anyway?”
“Your father’s been able to relax a bit at last. Now that Twilight’s been in the job a few months, things have finally started to settle down. It was nice of you and the others to go up and see her by the way. As for me, the school’s been chugging along pretty well. Honestly, at times I kinda miss when the class was more unruly. But there’ll be a new lot of foals arriving in September, so I’m sure me and Cheerilee will be kept plenty busy. I tell you, Bones, coming here’s really helped me rediscover why I got into teaching in the first place.”
“You sure seem a lot happier these days,” I agreed. True, Mum was never really unhappy in her retirement back on Earth, but teaching again really does seem to have made her happier. You could say the same thing about me and my line of work, something I never figured I’d ever get involved in.
The two of us stayed and chatted a little while longer. Mum does love to prattle on in a friendly way. Eventually, Cheerilee trotted over to ask her to help with locking up for the day, and I needed to get the shopping back to the farm anyway, so the two of us parted ways.
Leaving the school, and Ponyville, behind, I started along the track back to Sweet Apple Acres. Honestly, at this point, I could probably find my way blindfolded. In fact, on a few days last month, I had to almost do that on the way to the market, finding my way through thick ground fog that Rainbow and the other pegasi hadn’t yet cleared up.
Speaking of pegasi, it was than that I found myself running into another family member as two pegasi passed gracefully overhead. As they wheeled around and glided down to land in front of me, I saw that it was Fluttershy and Lizzie. I was running into everypony today it seemed.
“Hi Lizzie. Hey, Fluttershy,” I called out as they landed.
“Thought that was you, Bones,” Lizzie said as she folded up her wings. “What’s with the cart?”
“Supplies for the winter,” I explained. “In case we get any really heavy snow or we need to stretch our supplies.”
“Yeah, me and Fluttershy are doing the same,” Lizzie agreed. “Half the cottage is full of animal feed at the moment, never mind Sweet Feather Sanctuary. The two of us are going to be pretty busy next week helping some of the animals hibernate.”
“I suppose it’s a pretty similar situation on Sweet Apple Acres,” Fluttershy added. “I mean, the trees pretty much go into hibernation every year, don’t they?”
“Pretty much,” I said with a nod. “Me and Big Macintosh are startin’ to put the protective guards round the tree trunks now to stop critters from eatin’ the bark. Plus we’re gonna be cuttin’ a few down for firewood too.”
“Smart,” Lizzie said sagely. “I took a peek at the weather schedule for Hearth’s Warming Eve; the snow’s supposed to come down pretty thick a little before then, and it’ll drop well below freezing most nights until early January.”
“You and the rest of the Weather Patrol must be pretty busy getting ready for that,” I commented. “How’s Dewdrop coping with things?”
“Well enough,” she said, with a hint of pride. “He’s really improved himself this past year. We’ve even set a date in the new year for me to move into his place, although Celestia knows I’m going to miss being with Fluttershy, and I won’t be able to help out as often.”
“It’s okay, Lizzie,” Fluttershy said in that maternal way of hers. “Discord has offered to help me with a lot of my chores after you move out. He really wants to make up for what happened with the bell and everything. He’s really been a big help since he moved in full time.”
That was an interesting little titbit of news. Apart from Spike and his crush on Rarity (although word has it that ship has sailed now, much to Rarity’s surprise), Discord’s crush Fluttershy was the most obvious example of pinning in all Equestria. Discord likes to keep up this image of being above such things, and once threatened to turn my dad into a flying pig if he ever told anyone about it, but quite a few ponies, and humans, are in on the secret now. In fact, the only two who don’t seem to be aware of it are Fluttershy and Discord. The latter, as I said, denies that such a thing even exists, while Fluttershy, given her nature, is unwilling to make the first move. So for the past year or so, the pair have been dancing around the issue. Even Angel knows about it at this point. But Discord asking to move in with Fluttershy, regardless of what flimsy pretext he might use to disguise it, did mark a step in the right direction. Truth be told the pair did make a cute couple, in an odd sort of way. Heck, if Maud and Mudbriar can work, I see no reason with Fluttershy and Discord can’t. With any luck, the two will rub off on each other. Fluttershy has already greatly helped Discord improve himself, discovering friendship, learning to control his temper, and hopefully convincing him to lay off the crazy, if well-intentioned plans he comes up with to ‘help’ from time to time. For Discord’s part, he’s played no small role in helping Fluttershy gain confidence in herself, become more forthright and willing to speak up, and in general become a more well rounded pony, while not forcing her away from her introverted roots.
“Well, I’m sure it’ll be nice having some company, aside from Angel, of course. And his chaos magic, properly used, should really help with taking care of all those animals.” I chuckled to myself. “Discord sure has changed since you guys first ran into him.”
In hindsight, I shouldn’t have said that, as evidenced by the signature whooshing sound and bright light behind me, as Discord teleported in.
“Changed? Me?” he exclaimed, before softening a moment later and putting a pondering claw to his chin. “Well, I suppose Fluttershy has made me a teensy bit nicer these past few years, although I do miss the chocolate milk rain.”
“Hello, Discord,” Fluttershy said sweetly, instantly catching his attention.
“Oh, hello there, Fluttershy. And dear Elisabeth too. How wonderful to see you.”
“Hi, Discord,” Lizzie said. Despite living with Fluttershy, she’s always understandably been a little uneasy around Discord. “What brings you here?”
“Well, apart from protecting my good name from being besmirched,” he remarked, sending a faux glare my way. “I just dropped by to ask you about a gift for Hearth’s Warming Eve.”
That was probably a good idea, given how last year he manipulated Rainbow into getting Fluttershy an adorable little creature for her present, that turned into a terrifying monster come nightfall, just so Fluttershy could be the one to save the day by putting it in its place; his gift to her.
Speaking of gifts though, it was time to start thinking about all that. One of the few downsides about living in Equestria is that I have far more birthdays to remember, and far more presents to buy. Back on Earth, it was just me, Mum and Dad, and Lizzie. Pretty much all my other relatives were gone before I got through half of high school. It meant a lot of shopping and a fair kick in my coffers. But more to the point, I had all these supplies to haul back to the farm. So, since Discord was happily chatting with Lizzie and Fluttershy, I politely excused myself and headed back home to get everything squared away.
While Hearth’s Warming Eve is nowhere near as capitalist based as Christmas has become, gift giving is still a major part of the holiday. After all, what better way is there to show goodwill and friendship? In total, I had to buy eight presents; one for each of the Apples and one each for my own family members. Luckily, for the most part, they are easy to shop for, and Ponyville, despite its size, has plenty of shops that would provide. My first stop was the toy store to shop for Apple Bloom. She’d been having a bit of trouble sleeping the past few months; understandable considering all the upheaval, so I figured a nice stuffed animal would make for a good present. The store had plenty to offer and I soon found a wonderful little rabbit for her. Given her love for stories of El-ahrairah, it seemed fitting. Better yet, I found a good tennis ball in the sports section for Winona. Like all collies, she would play fetch with this until time stopped and never get bored of it.
Next up was Big Mac, and Sugar Belle of course. Given how I’m not exactly flush with cash, I hoped that the newest addition to the family wouldn’t mind a joint present to share with her husband. For them, I made for the small art gallery on the edge of town, where that guard...Spearhead, I think, had exhibited his work a while back. A good many pieces are for sale for reasonable enough prices, but better yet, the gallery would work as a go between for commissions. The director of the gallery had introduced me to a great landscape artist who had done a beautiful impressionist piece, based on a photograph of the farm at sunset. I’ve always loved the red and gold colours of the autumn, and this piece brought them out beautifully. If Mac and Sugar Belle did move out to a place in town, I hoped it would make for a nice house warming gift.
Then there was Granny. Of all the Apples, I’d say she is the easiest to shop for. The old mare loves her cooking, and while she objects to using too much modern technology in the kitchen, she doesn’t mind the odd new piece of kit from time to time. But as well as that, she always likes to try new recipes come dinner time, and what is newer than recipes from another world? Among many of the books that ultimately joined us here from Earth, there were a couple Nigella Lawson cookbooks, and while Granny may already be a domestic goddess, I’m sure she’d enjoy trying out something new.
Then there was Applejack. If her grandmother is the easiest to shop for, AJ is the hardest. Given how she so often puts others first ahead of herself and is willing to overlook her own wants for the good of the farm, it’s hard to choose a gift, more so considering that this was coming from her coltfriend. I’d asked her the month before if there was anything she had her eye on, but she’d just shrugged her shoulders and said there wasn’t anything she really wanted. I’m just as bad of course. When I was a kid it was easier. If you bought me something train, Thunderbirds, or Captain Scarlet related, I was happy. Nowadays though, there’s not really much I need. Books are your best bet and I’d hinted at a couple as gift ideas.
But with AJ, even that was out of the question. The usual mare stuff; chocolates, perfumes, clothes, were out, and there was no way I was going to just give her some bits. I considered something hat related, but given how much that hat means to her, I doubt she’d want to change anything about it, nor go about in a new one. The idea finally popped into my head a couple weeks later.
Now, I’m not the most photogenic person. As a pony, I’m by no means unattractive, nor was I that bad looking as a human. I was a far cry from winning the genetic lottery, but I hadn’t completely lucked out either. But, like a lot of kids, I didn’t exactly like myself, and to this day, I remain uncomfortable having my photo taken. Apart from passport and driving license photos, both of which look like something you’d expect to see on Crimewatch, you won’t find much of me beyond about twelve.
And truth be told, I’m still like that now. I’d much rather be the one holding the camera than the one standing in front of it. It probably has something to do with the fact that I can’t smile too well. I do smile, in fact AJ’s told me one of the things she likes most about me is my smile, but I can’t just will it onto my face. If I try to smile on command, I end up with a smile that looks like someone described a smile to a friend on a very bad phone line in French. And that’s the smile I end up with on photos. The other option is, of course, my normal face, but given that I often suffer from the male version of resting bitch face, that doesn’t make for a good pic either. So I still tend to avoid being in photos.
But there have been a few occasions where the planets have aligned and I managed to take a good picture. The most recent was actually taken by Apple Bloom of all ponies. A few months ago, she’d had to do some school project for art class by trying to replicate a photograph of something. While she’d been snapping pictures of birds, apple trees, and her friends, she’d come across Applejack and I. We’d spent the whole day helping Mac out with seeding some of the fields. It was hard work and by the time AB found us that warm, sunny afternoon, we were both exhausted. The two of us were resting under the shade of an apple tree, the two of us propped up against the trunk, with Applejack resting against my side, and me having thrown a foreleg round her. Apple Bloom, mainly wanting to embarrass her big sister by snapping a candid of her and her then new coltfriend, managed to take a great little picture of the two of us. I still remember that day fondly. The two of us were exhausted, but I don’t think I’d ever felt so close to her as I had at that moment. It remains one of my happiest memories, alongside the day I climbed to the top of Watership Down with my dad, and the day I flew a Spitfire out of Biggin Hill.
What better gift could I give than a reminder of that happy day? Borrowing the negative from Apple Bloom, who thankfully still had it knocking around somewhere in her room, I got a decent 3x5 photo developed. From there, I went into the barn and set to work with the woodworking tools to fashion out a simple frame and glass insert. It took me a couple attempts to get it all right, but by the end, I had a pretty professional looking photo frame, with a lovely photo of the two of us.
Now I just had to think about cards…
While Hearth’s Warming Eve was something to think about, with presents, cards, visiting relatives, decorations, and great food, work on the farm still took precedent. The apple trees were now bare of fruit and leaves. The fields had no crops to harvest, and in general, the farm had slipped into the character of a place at rest. The hustle and bustle of Applebuck Season was long gone, the green leaves of the high summer were now nought but mulch, and the beautiful spring blossoms were only a distant memory.
There was some harvesting to be done however. In contrast to some trees like oak, which live for centuries, apple trees don’t live that long, less so when their crop yield is so vital. Typically, a tree on Sweet Apple Acres will last for six or seven years at most. From there, it is cut down and replaced with new saplings from the nursery, just as we had done after that bad storm in the spring. That was what we had to do now. Applejack, Big Mac, and I had toured the farm, examining all the trees, noting down which ones had provided a poor crop this year, or any which showed signs of sickness or disease. Any that did were now marked with a white chalk ‘X’ denoting that they were to be cut down. I always felt a little sad doing this, just as some farmers on Earth did when they sent their cattle and sheep to the slaughterhouse. But it was a necessary thing. After all, we depended on a high crop yield to make enough money to see us through the year. We simply couldn’t afford to keep trees that were no longer able to pull their weight. And it wasn’t as if they’d go to waste either. As before, the felled trees would be chopped up into firewood, and sold to Burnt Oak for a tidy profit. Those trees would help keep many a pony warm through the winter, just as they had fed many in a previous life.
The work was pretty labour intensive. At least with that bad storm, we didn’t have to do too much work felling the trees. But now, Big Mac and I had to go to it with saw and wedges. The upside though was that, because of that storm, a good many of the trees that we would be looking to cut down now had already been felled. Across the entire farm, we were only looking to chop down around a dozen or so. Cutting them down and turning them into firewood would most likely take the better part of a week.
The two of us got to it first thing in the morning, as soon as there was enough light to see by. Stopping by the barn, we both stocked up on axes, saws, wedges and mails. The first tree was a ways off up in the northern orchard; quite a ways away from the house, and not too far from the Crusaders clubhouse. Applejack was keeping an eye on Apple Bloom, since school had now broken up for the holidays, and was making sure she didn’t go wandering over to where Mac and I were working. Tree felling is dangerous at the best of times, and no place for a filly, no matter how long she’s lived on a working farm. Luckily, she still had Winona to play with.
We found the tree easily enough. Apart from the white cross marking it, it stood out from its neighbouring companions by virtue of not having a protective trunk guard fastened around it. First things first, plan things out.
“Okay, how do you wanna do this, Mac?” I asked, deferring to the older and more experienced stallion.
“I reckon if we cut the notch so that it falls to the east, it should keep clear of the other trees and give us enough room to work,” he said, after walking around the tree a couple times.
The notch was a modest chunk of the tree which was cut away first in a wedge shape. The idea was that you cut it along the side you wanted the tree to fall, and then once you sawed your way through the trunk, physics would ensure that the tree would fall roughly in that direction. It gave us some control and helped reduce the risk of damaging other trees as it came down. Trees can be deceptively tall when you look at them. They seem quite short stood upright, but once they’re felled, they can seem quite a lot larger, so it was important to ensure that this one would fall well away from it neighbours. In any case, Big Mac’s suggestion was sound.
“Alright,” I said, grabbing a couple of axes. “I’m just gonna pull away those loose branches up near the top. The wood looks dead enough.”
Loose branches could be a killer, hence why the two of us were wearing hard hats today. But even with them, a falling branch, from sufficient height, could still do serious damage. So before we did anything that might jostle them loose, it was smarter to remove them outright. Were this Earth, and I not a unicorn, this would mean either climbing, or fetching a cherry picker. But with my magic, I was able to gently prise the branches off without too much trouble and gently float them to the ground.
With that done, Mac set to work with the axe, making the top cut in the notch first, while I kept lookout, just in case there were any other loose branches we’d missed. Before too long, between axe and saw, Mac had cut a decent wedge away, causing a chunk of wood a little larger than a doorstop to drop from the trunk. We now moved around to the other side and began cutting the felling cut. As with the notch, Mac first used an axe to make the initial cut, before going at it with the saw, and once he was a fair way in, I hammered in a couple of wedges to stop the saw getting pinched as the tree swayed on its ever more precarious perch. It was hard going with manual saws, and while ponies do have internal combustion engines, they’re still much too large to create something like a chainsaw. So instead, we took turns sawing away at the tree, giving each other a bit of rest. It was while I was on one of my stints, and we were nearing the notch cut, that we finally got a result.
As I was sawing away, I began to hear the sound of wood splintering. It started as just a crackle, but soon kicked up into a right racket. Mac heard it too and promptly called out a warning.
“Timber!” he bellowed in his trademark baritone.
With that, and one final crack, the trunk gave way and the tree went hurtling to the ground, landing with a terrific crash. After that, the dust settled and there was silence again. Mac seemed satisfied. The tree had fallen where we’d wanted it to and we could now work on cutting it up. We spent the rest of the morning cutting away the branches, starting at the top and working our way down, before using a two handed saw to cut the trunk into modest sixteen inch pieces that could then be cut up for firewood by Burnt Oak. And by early afternoon, we were pulling the stump out and ensuring all the roots had been pulled up. The new tree wouldn’t be planted until spring. Putting a sapling out now would most likely mean that it wouldn’t survive the winter, so it would instead remain in the nursery until better weather prevailed. Instead, Mac went and fetched the wagon from the barn, and we loaded up the firewood to take back and store in the barn to dry out.
The rest of the week was spent doing more or less the same thing; working our way around the farm, finding the trees that had been marked for felling and turning them into firewood. Before too long, a good portion of the barn was filled up, and while most of it would go up for sale, supplementing our other winter incomes like eggs from the hens, milk from the cattle and so forth, a good portion would be kept for ourselves. It was getting pretty chilly as it was. Working our way through the last few trees, despite the hard work helping to keep us both warm, I still found myself needing a scarf to stave off the cold. And any day now, we were expecting the first snowfall. The skies had been mostly grey and overcast for several days.
Tonight though, based on what Lizzie told me when I ran into her and Mum in town, we were due for the first real frost. The sky was going to clear up later this afternoon, and then the temperature was due to drop well below freezing. We’d certainly be glad for the firewood, but at the same time, the clear night after a long spell of overcast weather, would let me indulge in one of my hobbies; stargazing.
Even back on Earth, I had an amateur interest in the night sky. Dad had bought me a modest telescope for Christmas one year and a couple star maps. Cold clear nights were perfect for stargazing as the ‘seeing’ was better due to the prevailing atmospheric conditions. The cold weather made everything that much clearer to see. Plus, with the moon currently only a waxing crescent in the run up to Hearth’s Warming Eve, it wouldn’t be giving off too much light either, so even the dimmest stars would be visible.
So, that night, after a pipping hot supper that warmed us all through, I fetched out my telescope (again a Christmas, or rather Hearth’s Warming present, though from Twilight in this case) and set myself up on a small hill a stone’s throw away from the house. I was far enough away that the lights from within wouldn’t cause any problems with viewing, but not so far away that it was a trek to secure another cup of coffee. While the seeing might be good, it was still nonetheless biting cold, and I was certainly glad for my scarf and thickened winter hide.
The stars are pretty much the same as they are back on Earth, something that continues to baffle me, as I know for a fact that we definitely aren’t on Earth. The planet on which Equestria resides is virtually identical in pretty much all respects, but the radically different continents, prevalence of non-existent species, to say nothing of magic have me convinced that this isn’t Earth in some distant past or future. At the same time though, this planet must sit at least within the same galaxy, although I have never been able to locate anything even resembling Earth, or any other nearby planets for that matter; no Mercury, Mars, Venus or Saturn can be seen in this night sky.
What you can see though, is pretty much all the constellations you’d expect to find in the northern hemisphere. Orion’s Belt, The Big Dipper, Ursa Minor, and even the Pole Star for navigation are all visible on a good clear night, and with the cold weather, it was as if the sky had been littered with millions of tiny diamonds. The Moon too, even as a waxing crescent, was something to see. Unlike the stars, it was however quite different to Earth’s moon. The craters were noticeably different, with no Sea of Tranquillity for instance, to say nothing of the image of the Mare in the Moon that once marred its landscape. I found myself wondering if ponies would ever go there. The notion of space flight existed only as science fiction really, with a sort of Dan Dare style to it, and unlike humans, ponies do not have that inbuilt desire to explore and push boundaries.
Still, the natural satellite was lovely thing to view, and easier too, considering that Equestria’s moon was much larger apparently than Earth’s. At times when full, it could give me Majora’s Mask flashbacks. I continued to meander around the heavens, looking to see if I could catch a glimpse of anything that could be a planet, searching for anything that twinkled in the sky. I was just turning to examine the constellation of Lyra, when I heard a small voice close at hoof.
“Hey, Bones,” Apple Bloom said, prompting me to look up from the eyepiece. “What are y’all doin’ out here? It’s freezin’!” I chuckled at that. Apple Bloom herself was decked out in full winter kit, no doubt by order of either Granny, or much more likely, AJ.
“Cold nights are the best time for stargazin’, Apple Bloom,” I explained, gesturing to the sky above.
Apple Bloom had been so embittered by the cold, that she hadn’t thought to look up. When she did, she let out a gasp. No matter how long you live in dark sky territory, I don’t think anyone could ever get tired of looking up at the night sky.
“It’s amazin’!” she said, in a slightly hushed voice. Smiling to myself, I lowered the stand on the telescope to better suit a filly of her stature.
“Here, why don’t you take a look?” I suggested.
I ended up spending the next fifteen minutes showing her a few of the constellations and a bit of the moon. Ironically, Granny Smith had sent her to fetch me in, as it was getting pretty late. Apple Bloom had her own telescope, of sorts, set up in the Crusaders’ clubhouse. But it was nowhere near as powerful as this, and they used it more for...actually, I’m not sure what they used it for. More to the point, it always seemed to be at a very shallow angle. I suppose they use it more as a lookout than anything else. Maybe tomorrow I could take a look and see if it would be any good for stargazing in the warmer months when she and her friends had sleepovers out there.
In any case, the little filly was fascinated by the cosmos. I’d shown her and her friends a bit before, sure, but I couldn’t recall a night in quite a long time when they sky was this clear and the seeing was this good. I’d never seen it so clear on Earth, outside of those high end photos taken in the Arctic Circle. Eventually, Apple Bloom looked up from the eyepiece. I’d continued to look up myself, craning my neck skyward the whole time, utilising the somewhat less powerful, but just as reliable Mk. I Eyeball. Looking up at it all, it was very easy to fall into introspection and get lost in thought. Luckily, the temperature, which was now dropping by the second, and a more tired Apple Bloom helped rouse me.
“What are you thinking about, Bones?” she asked me, yawning adorably.
“How everything is made of the same stuff,” I replied wistfully. “How Carbon makes up everything from those stars, to barns, to skyscrapers, to steam engines, and how we’re looking up at a sky that existed millions and billions of years ago.”
That, of course, threw the youngster for a loop, and I ended up explaining the whole speed of light deal to her, and how, because of how far the light had to travel, the stars that originally gave off that light, had more than likely ceased to exist quite some time ago.
I think I gave her a bit of an existential crisis.
Luckily for her, as we’d both been out for so long, Applejack came looking for the both of us, promptly chastised me for letting Apple Bloom stay out in the freezing cold, and all but herded us back into the warm house and stuck her little sister in front of the fire to warm up again. To be fair, it was getting pretty late, and I was certainly glad for a warm cup of hot chocolate. It’s one of Granny’s specialities. She uses milk taken from the cattle at night (once a week, Mac or I stay up late to do it), so it contains a high amount of melatonin. The idea is the calf wakes up in the night, nurses, and the milk helps it fall back asleep. After all, it wasn’t as if I was going to have a pot of coffee to warm myself up at half ten at night.
Not too long later, and we were all getting ready to go to bed. The house was plenty warm, although the fire was now dying down, with only a few faint embers still burning behind the guard. Apple Bloom however, was propped up on the windowsill still stargazing. Until now, it had been a perfectly clear night, with not a cloud in the sky. But that was all set to change.
I was just beginning to doze in an armchair and thinking about heading to bed, when Apple Bloom roused me and everypony else.
“Hey, where’d the stars all go?” she said curiously.
Looking up, I saw that the previously glittering night sky had indeed vanished, replaced by an unbroken inky blankness of an overcast night. There was no way that clouds could move in that fast on their own; it had to be the Weather Patrol at work. I knew that they were working on kick starting winter soon, but I was surprised that they were still up and about so late at night. I was just about to get up and take a look for myself, when Big Mac beat me to it.
“Look!” he exclaimed gleefully; a rare sight to see from the normal reserved stallion.
We all rushed over to the window, with Winona and Apple Bloom propping themselves up on the windowsill. There wasn’t much to see. The clouds had blotted out the moon and stars, but the light from the house gave just enough illumination to see what was happening. It was only very fine at first, but falling softly from the sky, were snowflakes. It was snowing.
To my mind, you know you’re an adult when you look outside, see snow falling, and gripe about how hard it’ll be to get to work tomorrow. When you’re a kid, snow means a chance of no school (unless you were me, in which case your mum drove you in even if the school bus didn’t come, and you spent all day doing pointless busy work), snowball fights, sledding, and making snowmen. Luckily, for me, life in Equestria seems to have reversed the process, and I was just as excited to see the snow as Apple Bloom was.
Before too long, the gentle falling of the first few flakes intensified. The flakes slowly grew larger and more numerous. Against the light, they glittered just as the stars had done. It reawakened a childlike joy in me; memories of Christmastime in my childhood, putting up the tree and decorations, getting excited waiting for Father Christmas, and the joy of waking up the following morning to find myself with plenty of new toys. On the other hoof, it also reminded me of dear little Snowdrop...that poor, sweet little filly who created the first snowflake. Here in Equestria, each was an individual work of art, crafted by hoof, still based on her original creations, though according to Celestia, none could ever shimmer, glitter, twinkle, or sing like those originals had.
But let us put such bittersweet thoughts aside, the fact of the matter was that it was snowing. And before too long, it had whipped up into a flurry. Not ten minutes after it started, and there was already a fine layer of white on the ground. It was sticking.
Apple Bloom went to bed that night eager to see what it would all look like tomorrow. The rest of us stayed up a little longer. Applejack threw a few more logs on the fire to keep it going through the night. The frosty clear nights were cold enough, but snow would mean that the fire would need to keep going pretty much all day and all night to keep the farmhouse warm.
The following morning, I took advantage of a rare opportunity to sleep in. Since Big Mac and I had been hard at work felling trees for the past few days, Applejack volunteered to take over the early morning chores. There wasn’t really too much to do; let the chickens out and feed them, feed the cattle, pigs, and sheep. Everything else was on hold until spring; no trees to check on most days, no fields to plough or seed or harvest, even the vampire fruit bats were all hibernating now, with many taking up residence in the farm outbuildings near the Rez.
Of course, just because I got an extra hour or so of kip, didn’t mean my day would be quiet. The barn was full of firewood, now more or less dried out and ready to sell to Burnt Oak in town. Mac and I would be heading down there today, just as I had done with the smaller load last Spring. Before all that though, the first thing on my mind was to see what the snow had done last night.
Getting out of bed, I felt a sharp sting of cold hit me as I discarded the warm sheets. Even with the fire going, it was far from balmy in here now. It was pretty light outside, even through the curtains. And throwing them open revealed the full extent of the snowfall. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but pristine whiteness. The snow had to be around eight inches or so on the ground. The clouds from the previous night had cleared away too, and a cold sun now shone down on the landscape, making the freshly fallen snow twinkle.
After a quick shower to warm up again (at this time of the year, hot water was a precious resource) and brushing my teeth and combing the bed head out of my mane, I headed downstairs to breakfast. Granny was, as seemingly ever, working at the stove on breakfast. Applejack meanwhile, was pouring herself a coffee from the pot. I gladly helped myself as well. Winona followed me into the kitchen as well, having previously been dozing in front of the fire. My arrival marked another opportunity to beg for some food.
“She’s already had her breakfast,” Applejack said with a smile as she tucked into her cereal. “I reckon she’s tryin’ to hustle ya, Bones.” I chuckled and made of fuss of the dog.
“Well, they say collies are one of the smartest breeds,” I replied. Activating my magic, I picked up Winona’s favourite squeaky toy. A couple squeezes and I had her attention. A quick throw sent her racing back into the living room to retrieve it from behind the sofa.
“Easily distracted though,” AJ remarked wryly. “So, you and Big Macintosh gonna be alright haulin’ the firewood to town?”
I took a sip of my coffee. It was good stuff, not that instant rubbish. As with everything with the Apples, even coffee making was a little old fashioned, since we used on old school percolator to make fresh coffee. Old fashioned or not though, the caffeine woke me right up.
“I reckon so,” I said after a moment. “The snow doesn’t seem too deep out there. So long as we don’t overload the wagons, we shouldn't have a problem.”
“Just make sure the both of ya wrap up warm out there,” Granny Smith chimed in as she set down a plate of scrambled eggs and toast for me. “They’re sayin’ we may get a little more snow later, and it’s gonna get mighty chilly.”
“Granny, I’ll go out there dressed up like I’m trekking to the Frozen North if it’ll make you happy,” I said jokingly as I helped myself to some scrambled eggs and toast. “Hay, I’d even fetch out my old SAS shemagh if you want.”
“She-what?” Granny asked as she joined. “What in Equestria is one of those then, Bones?”
“It’s a headscarf,” Apple Bloom butted in. “We read about them when we had a lesson on Saddle Arabia at school.”
“They’re good for keeping the sand out of your eyes and the sun off your head in the desert, and just as good for keeping warm on a cold winter day,” I added.
“I didn’t know you had one, Bones,” Apple Bloom went on.
“I think it’s around somewhere,” I said. “My parents bought me one when we went to visit the Imperial War Museum when I was younger.”
As we all tucked into breakfast and prepared for the day ahead, we chatted about what else was happening.
“You know, I reckon it’s time we thought about puttin’ the decorations up for Hearth’s Warming Eve,” Applejack said. “Maybe you and me could go look for a decent tree, Granny?”
“Well, it is gettin’ near to that time, isn’t it?” Granny agreed. “I expect old Fir Spruce has his little store all set up by now. Just remember that we still need to get that break in the water pipe seen to today as well.
“I will, Granny. Don’t you worry,” AJ reassured her grandmother. “Apple Bloom, why don’t you start gettin’ the decorations down from the attic while we’re gone?” Instantly, the little filly’s ears perked up, and not in a good way.
“I gotta go in there?” she whined.
“There’s nothing scary up there, Apple Bloom,” I reassured her, before adding, with a sly smile. “Well, except those rats of course.”
“Rats?!”
“Don’t listen to him, Apple Bloom, he’s just messin’ with ya,” AJ reassured her. “Big Macintosh checked himself last month. There’s no rats, mice, or any other varmits up there, so there’s nothin’ for you to worry about. Just fetch the boxes down into the hall, and we’ll get ‘em organised when Granny and me get back from town with a tree.”
With everything organised for the day, more or less, Big Mac and I prepared to head out with our loads to deliver the firewood to Burnt Oak. AJ meanwhile, would tend to repairing the damaged water pipe, leaving Apple Bloom and Granny to clean up and start on the decorations. We wouldn’t be putting anything up for another couple days, but it was always a good idea to get them out of the attic a little early to check them all out. I’d never tell AB this, but I’m eighty percent sure there is at least one rodent of some description living up there, but despite traps, long searches, and various schemes to catch the bounder, neither Mac nor I have been able to catch it.
But we didn’t need to worry about that right now. For the moment, I was more concerned with the state of the roads. The two of us would be hauling fully loaded wagons down to Ponyville, and while the town would probably be alright, the paths on the farm, and the road leading to town, were still covered by a modest layer of snow and ice. It would make the going tough and treacherous at times, so we’d need to be careful. Mac said as much as we both hitched ourselves up.
“I’ll go in front, Bones,” he said. “I’ve got the heavier wagon. Just stay in my tracks, and we shouldn’t have any trouble.”
“Fair enough, Mac,” I agreed, shivering slightly, in spite of the jacket and scarf I had on. I was seriously considering going back and fetching my old shemagh out of the closet. Between the cold air and snow, I was freezing.
“At least pulling all this will help us warm up,” Mac said, seemingly reading my thoughts. “Come on, let’s get going.”
And so the two of us set off. Initially, it took a bit of work. Starting a fully loaded wagon moving takes effort and the best of times, but the snow on the ground made it had to get any traction. Eventually though, with some effort, we managed to get going and carefully headed down the farm track. The going was a little dicey, but you soon get a feel for driving in the snow, and at least I had the advantage of following Mac’s wheel marks.
We soon left that farmhouse, with it’s chimney still smoking gently in the morning light, far behind and before too long, we were off the farm and onto the main road, which while not gritted and salted had at least been well ploughed to clear most of the snow. Things only improved when we got into town. The inhabitants had been working hard since the snow came to keep the roads clear and safe. Ponies don’t exactly have access to gritting machines, but they do have rudimentary snowploughs. The big difference though compared to Earth, was watching Milano, Button Mash’s mother, chasing her son, and two of his friends, off the road to stop them from licking up the salt that had been put down to help melt the snow.
While the weather was cold and getting about a little more difficult, it hadn’t stopped the market from opening as usual. Burnt Oak was in his usual spot, with firewood piled around his modest stall. His stock looked to be running a mite low, and ponies were queueing up to buy fuel for another cold night.
“Well thank Celestia!” he said, pushing his gambler hat back on his head a bit as we pulled up. “It sure is good to see you boys. I was almost ready to start selling sticks.”
“Figured you might need a bit more stock, Burnt Oak,” Mac said as he unhitched himself. “I see folks have been keeping you busy.” Burnt Oak chuckled as he handed off another bundle to a remarkably sober looking Berry Punch.
“Oh like you wouldn’t believe,” he said with a grin. “And to think this winter’s been pretty mild. So how much do you want for all that?”
Mac took the lead on the negotiations while I unhitched myself and prepared to start unpacking my load. It was as I was unlatching the back of the wagon to jump up that I heard a familiar voice call out from across the market.
“Bones!” a voice called out. I smiled as I recognised it.
Turning around, I saw an elderly looking earth pony, around Granny Smith’s age. He had a light, somewhat faded caramel coat and a somewhat messy mane and tail, which had long ago turned grey, and almost white. Around his neck was a modest green bandanna, and his cutie mark was a large, lime green pear.
This was Grand Pear; Mac, AJ’s and Apple Bloom’s maternal grandfather, the late Pear Butter’s father. Not so long ago he moved back to Ponyville, having run a modest store in Vanhoover selling pear jam. It was only then that the Apples’ learned of their relationship to him. Many years prior, the Apples and Pears had been locked in a long standing feud, and for the longest time, Pear was a dirty word on the farm, at least with Granny about. But having met his grandchildren, and if you ask me, still grieving for his daughter, the old stallion has set aside that old argument and we are all now on much better terms. He’s a nice enough guy and if we run into one another, we often swap stories on farming life. And given who he sounds like, I find it very fitting that he calls me by my nickname. At times, I’m tempted to call him Jim. At the moment, he was chatting with perhaps the most most boring pony in town; Mudbriar, Maud’s coltfriend.
“Hey Grand Pear. Good mornin’ Mudbriar,” I said as I trotted up. The painfully fickle stallion was quick to reply.
“Technically, it’s three minutes past twelve, so good afternoon would be correct,” he said in that slightly condescending tone of his. I honestly think he’s socially tone deaf, or possibly somewhere on the spectrum. Grand Pear just rolled his eyes and smiled sympathetically at me.
“How are things over on Sweet Apple Acres?” he asked me genially.
“Not so bad, Grand Pear,” I replied. “We’ve finished felling all the low yield trees from this year. There’s gonna be a lot of new saplings come spring. How about you?”
“Lost a couple to canker again this year,” he said ruefully. “Still made a good harvest though. I’m thinking of trying that idea little Apple Bloom suggested; cross breeding zap apple and pear trees. Who knows, next year I might be able to sell hybrid, rainbow coloured pears. If I can get a good harvest, I might even try making a few batches of that pear wine I was telling you about.”
“Sounds great,” I agreed. “AB said you were planning on tryin’ somethin’ new.”
Of all the Apples, Apple Bloom is the closest with the old stallion. She met him when he first came back to town, not even realising he was her grandfather.
I was surprised though to find Mudbriar with him. The matter of fact, deeply logical pony isn’t exactly the type to engage in small talk. Before I could ask though, Mudbriar chimed in again.
“Technically, pear based wines have been produced for several centuries, so it is hardly a new product,” he pointed out. I smiled and bit back a scathing remark.
“True, Mudbriar,” I admitted. “But up until now, Grand Pear here has only ever sold pears themselves or pear jam to ponies. So in that sense it would be a new product for him.”
“That was not what you said though,” Mudbriar persisted in an emotionless tone. Yeah, I’d bet ten bob he’d tick all the DSM V boxes for autism.
Luckily, before I had to deal with that any more, although I was enjoying chatting with Grand Pear. I heard Mac calling me.
“Hey, Bones!” he called from across the square. “Burnt Oak’s bought our whole stock. Come and give us a hoof unloading everything.”
“Be right there,” I called back, before turning back to Grand Pear and Mudbriar. “Sorry fellas, duty calls.” Grand Pear smiled.
“See you round, Bones.” Mudbriar however, seemed determined to have one last parting shot.
“Technically...” he began, but I cut him off as I got away.
“Figure of speech, Mudbriar!” I called back, opting not to add, ‘You green blooded, pointy eared Vulcan’.
A couple of hours later, and Mac and I were back at the farm, our wagons now noticeably lighter than they were before. The barn still had plenty of firewood for ourselves of course. In fact, our next course of action would be to chop some of that firewood up into sticks for kindling. It had warmed up a little over the morning, but the cool winter sun didn’t exactly provide much heat. The snow certainly didn’t go anywhere, with only our hoofprints and wheel marks marring the snowfall, along with the arrow shaped footprints left behind by the chickens on the farmyard. It wasn’t supposed to snow now for a few days, so Mac suggested that, before chopping up the firewood, we try and clear the yard a bit to make it easier to get around and look to defrosting the currently frozen water pump.
So we both grabbed the shovels and started digging out a few paths around the farmyard. There wasn’t any point trying to clear everything, but it would make sense to carve out a path to and from the barn, the chicken coop, and a few other places, to save tramping our way through the deep snow. If nothing else, the work would help us keep warm. In spite of my scarf, jacket and hat, I was still feeling the cold and looking forward to getting back inside. We could actually hear the female members of the family indoors. It looked like Granny was working on something in the kitchen with the others helping. The farmhouse had been getting pretty crowded of late. Well, not crowded per se, but with Sugar Belle sharing Mac’s room, it did feel a little more busy. I was reminded of Lizzie’s suggestion that Mac and Sugar Belle might want a place of their own.
“Say, Mac,” I said as I hurled another chunk of snow into the pile I’d been working on. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he replied, a smile clear in his voice.
“You and Sugar Belle ever think about gettin’ your own place?” I asked. “I was talkin’ with Lizzie a while back. She’s moved out of Fluttershy’s cottage to go live with her coltfriend. Between her, Fluttershy, Discord, and all them critters, the place was gettin’ mighty crowded.”
“It’s been feelin’ a bit like that here, hasn’t it?” Mac agreed. “It ain’t exactly fun for a feller and his wife to only have one room to themselves.”
“You ever think of gettin’ your own place in Ponyville or somethin’?” I prodded.
“We talked about it,” Mac admitted, hurling an impressive amount of snow through the air before pausing to catch his breath. “But I couldn’t ever leave this old place. It’s my home. I was born here, and I plan on stayin’ here. But it is gettin’ mighty cramped. Celestia knows what we’d do if Sugar Belle and I have foals. I suppose we could always build an extension for the farmhouse.”
Now there was an idea. After all, the Apples owned the land, so half the legal paperwork wouldn’t need doing, and it wasn’t like we lacked building materials or pony power. A couple extra rooms; extra bedrooms, and maybe something like another living room would be quite good all around.
“You reckon we could do that?” I asked. Mac nodded.
“Sure, you, me, and Applejack. It’d take a few months, but I reckon we could take out part of the back wall in the kitchen and build from there. Either we build just a single storey extension with a couple extra rooms, or we could do a first floor as well; bedrooms upstairs, maybe a dining room downstairs, instead of having to eat in the kitchen.”
I could see that. It wouldn’t affect the familiar silhouette of the farmhouse much, and it would be easy enough to decorate it in the same style as the original building. Before too long, the two of us started talking details and logistics, and how to delicately propose the idea to the conservative Granny Smith. She probably wouldn’t take kindly to the idea of the ancient family seat being messed around with. Although, at that point, you could remind her that, Applejack, only a couple of years ago, inadvertently demolished said family homestead, and it was rebuilt during the reunion. In any case, it sounded like quite the project for the new year.
December continued along and we slowly drew closer and closer to Hearth’s Warming. Before too long, the last week of term rolled around at the School of Friendship. The students would now return home for the holidays. Just as ponies celebrated Hearth’s Warming, and humans celebrated Christmas, the various other species also had their own festivities, from the Yaks Snildarfest, the dragons Feast of Fire, and the Changelings bizarre literal interpretation of Hearth’s Warming. All the students were looking forward to going home and seeing their families. Well, except one.
Gallus, as ever, wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of going home. While the griffons do celebrate the Blue Moon Festival; the one time of the year when they are halfway decent to each other, he doesn’t much care to celebrate it, considering his only family if his grandfather. When the summer holidays rolled around, I’d at least managed to give him a bit of fun by letting him join in with the Apple family reunion, and even helped him get a few extra bits doing some odd jobs on the farm. Still, while Twilight, and now Starlight, had made special provisions for him to stay in the school’s dorms during the holidays, it had to be hard spending it alone. Hearth’s Warming, like Christmas, is all about family, coming together, laughing, joking, and enjoying each other’s company. Not really having a family, the whole concept left a pretty bitter taste in Gallus’ mouth. The only upside would be that, with his advancing years, he would soon be considered a legal adult under Griffon law. He was planning to up sticks, leave Griffonstone and his grandfather behind and move to Equestria as soon as he could. As I said before, he has ambitions about applying to the new Royal Guard. If nothing else, the Guard would provide for him pretty well, giving him quarters, decent food, further education, and a pretty good paying job, none of which he had back home.
Before all that though, there was still plenty of school left to do. In the last week of term, students and teachers get together to put up the decorations, including a pretty decent sized tree in the student lounge over in the dorms. This was always one of my favourite parts of Christmas with my family, and given how other students and us teachers had become like a second family to Gallus, I hoped that the exercise would lift his spirits a little. It certainly seemed to at any rate, and it was good to see the kid crack a smile.
We were all working hard in the lounge, adding the last few decorations to the tree. Silverstream and Smoulder had already helped get the multicoloured chain lights arranged, and we were now adding the various baubles and trinkets to the branches. I meanwhile, along with Yona and Sandbar, was getting the gold and silver tinsel tied around the tree, using my magic to hold one end aloft for them.
“Okay, you two,” I said. “One more and that should do it.”
Activating my magic, I took one end of the tinsel and hold it aloft, while the pony and yak took hold of the end and middle and carefully wound it around the tree. The green fir tree was now covered in splashes of red, gold, silver, and green from the various decorations. Now we just needed to check the lights. That was Silverstream’s job.
“Okay, everycreature. Get ready,” she called as she flicked the switch.
We all cheered as the little fairy lights came on. A multitude of blue, green, pink, yellow, and white lights lit up, making the tree even more colourful. There was only one thing left.
“Okay, it’s time for the Fire of Friendship,” Starlight said. “Gallus, would you care to do the honours?”
The griffon, in a rather subdued mood, hadn’t taken much part in the festivities so far, apart from helping put on a few decorations. As he so often does, he puts on a show of disinterest to cover up his real feelings. I understood why, of course, we all did after the incident last year, but it was a shame to see him sitting off on his own, so Starlight tried to include him as much as she could without patronising him.
“Me?” he asked, sitting up from his seat on one of the sofas.
“Well, you’re going to be staying her over the holiday, so it’s your tree in a sense,” Starlight pointed out. “Come on, join in on the fun for a while.”
Reaching into one of the many cardboard boxes that held the decorations through the rest of the year, I took out the box that held the Fire of Friendship; a small little trinket that, when charged with the right magic, glowed and shone a beautiful purple. The heart shaped ornament was quite delicate and I was careful as I passed it to Gallus, who gently took to the air to set it atop the tree. Once it was in place, all that remained was to charge it up. As Gallus landed again, we all joined hooves, claws, and wings, as friends. The energy was more than sufficient, with the bonds not only between ponies, but between all the species here, stronger than ever. A few moments later, the fire was kindled and atop the tree, there now sat a small, pink and purple heart shaped flame, which would keep burning all through the holiday. And then, just to make things perfect, we had the most fitting bit of music. There was a gramophone in the lounge you see, and we’d been playing a couple records for Hearth’s Warming and Christmas music. Just as we lit the fire, we heard the strains of ‘It Came Upon a Midnight Clear’. I couldn’t think of a more fitting piece, considering what had happened in the last few months.
“Looks pretty good doesn’t it?” I said to the griffon as we all admired our handiwork.
“Yeah, actually,” Gallus admitted. “I always thought these trees always looked a little tacky. But this one looks pretty nice.”
“Mad how much ponies spend on something that’s only up for less than a month though, eh?” I joked. Gallus checked and nodded in agreement.
“So are you still fixin’ to stay here over the holiday?” I enquired carefully, “I know Starlight said she was happy for you to do so if you wanted, under the guise of further education to keep your grandpa quiet.”
“I’m not too sure,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “On the one claw, I’d much rather not have to pretend to celebrate the Blue Moon Festival with Grandpa Gruff, but on the other hoof, as much as I don’t like him, it can’t be easy for him spending the time alone either. I mean, another year and I plan on being out of that place for good anyway. Plus winter break is only a couple weeks, so it won’t be too long before I’m back here.”
It sounded like he was coming down on the side of going back to Griffonstone. I could see where he was coming from. His grandfather might be a cantankerous, horrible old sod who seemed to never have a kind word for him, but it still made me sad to think of that same old man alone on Hearth’s Warming. Even so, I’m not sure I could do the same, were our roles reversed. And as he said, it was only a couple weeks. Considering that he had pretty much the rest of the year, apart from a couple other holidays, away from him, it was a small sacrifice. Was his home life a bit more rocky, I might have counselled staying, but Gallus has learned to have a thick skin, is remarkably resilient, and while I know it gets him down, is capable of dealing with whatever his old man throws at him.
“That’s awfully big of you, Gallus,” I commended. “I see you’ve taken Professor Fluttershy’s lessons to heart. Well, as long as you’re sure, I’ll make sure that Headmare Starlight gets you booked on a passage back to the Griffon Kingdom.”
“What are you planning to do over the holiday anyway, Professor?” Gallus asked.
“Well, I normally split Hearth’s Warming between the Apples and my own family. I still go over to my parents’ place for dinner on the day, plus I always help Dad make Bishop. It’s a sort of spiced wine, served piping hot. I’m sure Apple Bloom and her friends will want help making a snow pony. Honestly, I prefer to spend the day pretty quietly just relaxing in front of a warm fire.”
“Yeah, I’m probably gonna do something like that,” Gallus agreed. “It’s not like there’s much to do in Griffonstone.”
It was then though, that I remembered something Dad had said to me in passing a while back. It concerned the travel plans of a rather notorious ex-villain, following her temporary exile from the realm. Gallus always was looking to learn about soldiering.
“Well, while you’re there, Gallus,” I said. “I’d suggest you keep an eye out for a unicorn that might be in that neck of the woods. I heard she might be spending some time near Griffonstone about now.”
“Oh? Who is she?” I smiled and described her.
“A unicorn, about so high,” I said, raising a hoof to be a good head above my own. “Mohawk mane, tends to go about with a shemagh type scarf round her neck, bad horn and a nasty scar over one eye. Her name’s Tempest, and I think you two might get along like a house on fire.”
A few days later, and it was finally Hearth’s Warming Eve. The school was closed up, with Gallus having taken one of the last trains before the holiday back to his home town. The other students too had gone home for the holidays. In fact, pretty much everything was now closed for the holiday. Barnyard Bargains was operating reduced hours today, but pretty much everywhere else in Ponyville would be closing up shop until the new year at least.
The snow was thick on the ground, the days were fleeting, and everywhere you looked there were decorations, lights, and the other minutiae of Hearth’s Warming. There was a sense of excitement in the air in anticipation of the holiday, that feeling you used to get as a kid waiting up for Father Christmas. And while I wasn’t overly fussed about presents, I still found myself caught up in that happy mood.
It was a little before dinner time, and I was out in the front yard, along with AJ and Apple Bloom. The three of us had spent all morning working on snow ponies, amongst other things. The whole yard was now littered with our various creations, built with varying degrees of skill. Given how that winters back in Britain were usually pretty mild, with the occasional snowfall only sometimes being sufficient for snowmen, I wasn’t exactly good at it. I certainly couldn’t match the sculptures AJ and her sister were working on, instead building a traditional snowman out of three round balls of snow.
Along with that though, the fields around the farmhouse were dotted with various fortifications from our most recent snowball fight. We’d had a right free for all not so long ago, and had each made quite an extensive fort for ourselves. What followed can be best described as Verdun with snowballs. And as cold and wet as it might have left me (I was brilliantly outflanked when my two opponents teamed up against me after I started using my magic for rapid fire) it still rekindled that childlike joy of Christmas that all too often dies when you’re about ten or eleven. Across the way, the house was brilliantly decorated, with multicolour lights along the frame of the building, and peering through the windows, you could just make out our own tree in the living room, which now had plenty of presents underneath it.
“There, I reckon that ought to do it,” I said as I stuck a carrot into my snowman’s as a nose.
“Aww c’mon, Bones. That doesn’t even look like a human,” Apple Bloom protested.
“It’s not supposed to be exact, AB,” I replied. “Besides, I don’t have your skills when it comes to snow sculptures.”
It was hard not to be jealous of her near mirror image of Big Mac that she’d built. In contrast, my snowman had the traditional carrot nose, two sticks for arms, and coal and stones for eyes and a smile. Still, as long as we don’t have a repeat of last year when I ill advisedly used a Come to Life spell to try and recreate Frosty, causing an eldritch snow abomination to run amok until Twilight arrived to blast it, I say I’m pretty proud of my creation. Across from the two of us, Applejack was starting to feel the chill.
“C’mon y’all,” she said, shivering a little, in spite of her winter coat. “Let’s get back inside. You two still need to finish making your Hearth’s Warming dolls.”
That was a point. One of the traditions that didn’t line up with Christmas was the little Hearth’s Warming dolls ponies make each year. They sit on the mantle above the fireplace, similar to how you’d hang stocking at Christmas. Along with that, there was the Hearth’s Warming Eve pageant to go to, which tells the story of how the holiday came about, and of course, preparing the Apple family’s massive Hearth’s Warming dinner, which remembers how their ancestors came together to share their supplies in that cold winter. It was the latter of these that currently had Granny, Mac and Sugar Belle busy in the kitchen. Granny Smith keeps us well fed all year long, but tonight the Apples would set the stage for a massive multi course meal, and it required all of us to pitch in at one time or another. So while AJ joined her brother, grandmother and sister in law, those of us with less skill in cooking went into the living room to finish up our dolls.
I was never good at sewing. Back in high school, I had to go through a course as part of my D&T GCSE course, and I was terrible at it. It probably didn’t help that I was left handed, and so had to learn everything backwards from what everyone else did. I never much cared for it and to be honest, I didn’t see much point in learning. However, in a world where it pays dividends to be able to repair clothes and so forth, I have managed to improve somewhat. And on long, boring, rainy days, crochet can actually be a decent hobby, as Big Mac showed me. It was quite the strange sight to see the massive stallion sitting next to Granny Smith contentedly working on a sweater. He ended up teaching me a fair bit, and as I result, I can now make a passable Hearth’s Warming doll.
This was what Apple Bloom and I were working on in the short time we had before going to the pageant. Like any good student, we’d both been a bit daft and left it until the last minute. While I have nothing against arts and crafts these days, I still don’t find it particularly fun. Still, at least my magic gives me decent fine motor control for the needles.
The doll version of myself was pretty much finished, and I was just working on the hat. I’d been a bit ambitious this year in that regard. Apple Bloom was in a similar position, doing a bow for her own doll. It looked a good approximation of my, with a grey body, blue mane and tail, and two dark brown buttons for eyes.
I’m not too sure exactly where this tradition comes from. It doesn’t feature in the Hearth’s Warming Eve story, seeming to be a more modern addition. Then again, you can say the same thing about most Christmas ‘traditions’. But, while I may not know where this particular tradition comes from, to paraphrase a wise old Jew, it's a tradition, and because of our traditions, everypony knows who he is, and what Celestia expects him to do. And if that means making cute little dolls, so be it.
“You looking forward to the pageant this year, AB?” I asked as she continued to knit away.
All three of the Crusaders had parts in the play this year, with Apple Bloom taking the part of Smart Cookie; the secretary and advisor to the mad as a march hare Chancellor Puddinghead, who sought to not only claim the land we now call Equestria for earth ponies only, but curiously name it after my old home planet. Alongside her, Scootaloo played Private Pansy, and Sweetie Belle would take the hooded cloak of Clover the Clever; old Starswirl’s student.
“I just hope I don’t forget any of my lines,” she said, a little nervously.
“You’ll be fine,” I reassured her. “You know the story of Hearth’s Warming like the back of your hoof. And if anything does go wrong, I’m sure Pinkie will help you out.”
Pinkie was reprising her role this year as the earth pony chancellor, not that anypony else can adequately act the part without taking some mad hallucinogenic. A few minutes later, and I put the last stitch into the hat and tied it off to stop it unravelling.
“There. Finished.” I declared proudly, holding the doll in my magic. “What do you think, Apple Bloom?” The filly scrutinised the two Bones’ before her.
“Hmm,” she said, thinking before saying, with a cheeky grin. “I think it needs more stuffing if it’s gonna look like you, Bones.” I chuckled at that.
“Cheeky beggar,” I chided.
I think we might as well take a bit of a time skip here. We all know the story of the very first Hearth’s Warming after all, and while the Crusaders and their fellow players performed wonderfully, there isn’t really much worth recording here. It was a lovely experience, of course, but I was certainly glad when, after walking back through the snow by moonlight, we made it back to the warm confines of the farmhouse, where Granny Smith was still busily cooking, having stayed behind to keep an eye on things.
The oven was throwing out plenty of heat, in addition to the warm fire. On the stove, pots were bubbling away nicely. And that was only part of the dinner, mostly the desserts. The majority of the evening meal was already set out. Disregarding the frou-frou nature of multi-course meals, the Apples instead took a sort of free for all approach, with several dishes laid out like a buffet for you to pick and choose. Amongst the culinary delights on offer I picked out a parsnip and porcini wellington, a whole roasted cauliflower, with leeks and cheese sauce, a squash and Stilton version of toad in the hole, and, of course, a great big apple pie, with plenty of reserve cider on hoof. Granny Smith had certainly outdone herself this year, even considering the help she had from other members of the family.
We all took our seats and promptly dived into the feast. The only downside was having to eat so much food. By the time the meal ended and we were all carefully sipping coffee mixed with cider, I was fairly certain sudden movement would cause my gut to burst open. If only Equestria had microwaves, we could at least put some of it in the fridge for Boxing Day.
One good effect though, at least for Apple Bloom, was that the vast quantity of food quickly made her quite sleepy, and despite her excitement for presents tomorrow morning, she dozed off in her chair, prompting Big Mac to carefully carry her upstairs. Granny soon followed suit, leaving Mac, AJ, Sugar Belle and myself to clean up. Another downside of having a large meal so late. Still, with the four of us working together, along with Winona, who served as a living garbage disposal for any leftovers, we soon had everything, if not clean and back in its cupboard, either drying on the draining board, or at least soaking in the sink. Before too long, we were all preparing to head off to bed as well. As Big Mac and Sugar Belle both disappeared upstairs, leaving just AJ and myself, I took one last look at the pretty Hearth’s Warming scene that was our living room. The remains of a fire slowly burned in the fireplace. Above it, nestled on the mantle, were our dolls and a few trimmings. The walls were plastered with cards from the various members of the Apple family from almost every corner or Equestria, and even beyond. And in the one corner stood our tree, the fire of friendship burning merrily, while the tinsels, baubles, and other decorations glittered in the light. And on the air, the smell of tree, good food, and the slight musty smell of the decorations, brought on by their many months of storage. There was only one thing I hadn’t spotted, which Applejack was quick to bring to my attention.
I was standing in the doorway to the living room, with the hallway just behind me. As AJ trotted up to join me, she grinned, and quietly gestured upwards. Looking up, I saw, hanging from the top of the door frame, a small branch of mistletoe. I found myself chuckling.
“You know,” I said with a smile, keeping my voice down to avoid waking anypony upstairs. “As I recall, the first time you kissed me was a bit like...”
I didn’t get to finish reminiscing as AJ promptly took the initiative, grabbed me and pulled me into a kiss. She does seem rather fond of taking the initiative, not that I mind. There’s certainly some advantages to that earth pony strength of hers. I soon found myself pulling her close and kissing her back. A quick teleport spell later, and we were both upstairs.
I guess I got one Hearth’s Warming present a few hours early.
Sorry if there are any little typos in here. My proofreader, Sweetolebob18, is out of action at the moment.
I guess I should have started publishing this a couple weeks earlier, then this would line up nicely with Christmas. But given how this year it was a bit meh for one reason or another, hopefully this little idealised version of Hearth's Warming will make January a bit more bearable.
On the plus side, there is still an epilogue left to do covering Hearth's Warming and New Year.
After that, that will be it for this 'verse, as its somewhat turned into. And I know I've said that before, but this time I mean it. 
I'm planning to move away from the HiE genre a bit. I'll throw up a blog post soon with a few upcoming ideas.
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*crosses fingers* C'mon, last chance. They go back for their friend, or they abandoned friendship with her from the start.
Having actually been recently testing and found to have been autistic all this time. Aspergers has now been put under the umbrella of Autism. Just thought you’d like to know.
10634707 Thank. I'll fix that now. I can't help but find it a little concerning how five pretty diverse conditions have all been relabelled as one disorder. Although in the case of Asperger's, considering recent revelations about the man, I can imagine not too many people are comfortable with the name any more.
10635013
I don't see how whatever someone did with their life would reflect badly on people born q certain way.
10635608 I meant that some people with a diagnosis probably prefer to use the ASD label, given how Hans Asperger, as it turns out, actively cooperated with the Nazi euthanasia program targeting children with learning disorders. Just as modern medicine no longer uses the word 'moron' or 'retard' in a medical context, Aspergers has become something of a dirty word for some in recent years.