Monday, January 3, 2011


I love seasonal decorating. When the kids were young I would try to keep the bithday banners and streamers intact from Brandi's birthday in June until the boys birthday in August. I know most of you probably pinned this down to sheer laziness, or perhaps frugality, but the truth is I like the festive sorta look. Especially in the dull dreary winter months where darkness outnumbers daylight hours 3 to 1.

To my way of thinking, outdoor Christmas lights should be manditory on every home from October 1st until March 31st, and when I am queen, I shall make such a decree. Not tacky Santa and Disney stuff, but nice, pretty lights that brighten the doldrums of winter.

But alas, I am not queen and there is no such decree. And as such, the first week of January, I cave to societal pressures and pack up my holly and pointsettias and box up Mary and Jesus for another year.

For some reason it always seems awkward to place the ceramic figures of the holy family and their entourage into their molded styrofoam storage box and haul them off to the cellar. It's not like the made-in-China pieces of porcelain are anything more than that, but I always tell the wee babe laying on a bed of hay that even though I am delgating it to the dusty basement, it is my intention to leave the spotlight shining on him in our home throughout the year. I don't always measure up, but it is my intention.

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