While our Johnson Creek family is enjoying the next few days off with our families, we wanted to take a moment to wish you a very happy holiday season. No matter what you celebrate, we hope you celebrate it with your favorite Johnson Creek Smoke Juice. We’ll be back bright and early on Tuesday morning to pack and ship all the orders. Until then, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Happy Kwanza!

Making its 3rd annual appearance, our own version of ‘Twas the night before Christmas!

Twas the night before Shipping Deadlines, when all through the Creek,

Every creature was packing, even our IT geek;

The packages were stuffed in bins with care,

In hopes that UPS soon would be there;

The LEGAL ADULTS were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of Premium Smoke Juice danced in their heads;

Lab Techs were slaving away in their lab, and I at my desk,

Had just settled down for an e-mail-filled night,

When out in the field there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter!

Away to the doors I flew like a flash,

Ran out through the snow, expecting a crash!

Cold as it was, with my e-cig glowing blu,

wishing I was still at my desk, puffing off my pass through,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a Johnson Creek sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With our boss as the driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment he was impersonating St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his production crew came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by other names;

“Get to work now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!

To the top of the hill! To the top of the wall!

Now hurry! Dash away! Go faster all!”

As dry atomizers that cause curses to fly,

When they meet with a deadline, bottles piled high to the sky,

So off to the post office they flew,

With the truck full of orders, the boss riding shotgun, too.

And then, in a rush, we found the door locked,

We all stood there looking more than a little shocked.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the sidewalk old St. Nick came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

An empty bag he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a robber, ready to fill his pack.

His eyes — how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;

The sight of a mini he held tight in his teeth,

And the thick vapor encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled his bag with the orders; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, into the post office he rose;

The boss sprang back to his truck, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they flew down the street like a missile.

But I heard him exclaim, as we drove out of sight,

“Happy Holiday vaping to all, Santa sure bailed us out tonight.”