Yankee Swap

Stella here.
Brrr, it's a mite nippy t'night. I'm some glad we got all that wood in an' stacked.
Harvey's over t' th' men's group at th' grange t'night playin' Santa f'r their Yankee Swap. He's been their Santa f'r several years now.
Charlie Haskell an' Virg Brown pick him up, 'long with th' tuna casserole I send f'r their pot luck, an' deliver him home again when it's done.
Those fellas are a sketch, let me tell ya! Ev'ry year they try t' out-do each other f'r who's got th' most outlandish (ugly... unwantable) present.

This year Harvey, he wrapped up a petrified seagull he found back last August. 'Twas all dried up an' it hardly even smelled when he brought it home. I made him keep it out back in his shed, though. Lord knows, th' cat woulda had a field day with it.
Goodness knows whatever happened to that gull. Just up an' died, I guess. Harvey said 'twas just a-lyin' atop th' tin roof o' th' bait house down t' th' dock. Sun musta cooked it just like one o' them de-hydrators th' girls wanted t' give me one year.
Anyways, t'day he wrapped that gull up nice in a box with fancy paper an' a bow an' all. Wonder who'll end up gettin' it?

If y' never done a Yankee Swap, here's how.
Ev'rybody brings a wrapped present an' they pile 'em up on a table. They each draw a number outta Santa's hat an' whoever's got #1 picks out a present an' opens it.
#2 can either takes another present offa the pile, OR he can take #1's present away from #1.
#3 can take a new present, OR one o' th' ones already opened. An' it goes on like that till ev'rything's gone.
Then last, #1 gets t' pick whatever thing he wants from what ev'rybody else has.
Santa's there t' keep things from gettin' too rowdy.

Now I write it down, I guess it sounds kinda foolish, but let me tell you, it's mighty fun!
'Course this is all just fellas, an' from what Harvey tells me, some o' them gifts gets a little "risque" now an' then. (He won't tell me more'n that, though.)

While he's gone, I'm finishin' up th' cap an' nose-warmer I been makin' f'r him. Got th' Christmas carols playin' an' a cup o' tea.
Well, Mister H'll be along b'fore too long, so I'm gonna sign off. Gonna hide m'knittin' where he won't look... in amongst th' laundry soap an' all.
Love,
Stella