I don’t know about you, but my halls are all sorts of
decked. The Roomie and I don’t have an enormous amount of space to work with,
but we make it festive. Well, technically, I do the decorating whilst Roomie
fulfils her holiday tradition of napping on the couch in red sweatpants and a
Santa hat. But, regardless, we both play our roles and the apartment gets its
seasonal makeover.
It would be really difficult for me to pick a favorite
decoration, but for the sake of my efforts here, I’m going to discuss the
Department 56 houses. While every decoration reminds me of a story, the houses
are the only ones that can be set up to tell one on their own.
I grew up setting these houses up. My mom collected them and
I liked to sit and watch their little lights twinkle and myself stories about
where in the village or city I would live (the yellow house that generally sat
atop the kitchen cabinets) and where I would work (the movie theater that
constantly showed White Christmas). At
least this is what I thought about when I wasn’t being tortured by questions of
why the people were doomed to grow to such heights that they could never fit
into the doors of the buildings where they lived.
Even crouched over, Gramps here is about a story tall.
Over the years I started collecting them as well, sometimes
receiving them as gifts, sometimes taking them from my mother’s horde under the
dark of night.
Whoops, guess the cat’s out of the bag.
(Tangent: Why are we
carrying cats around in bags in the first place?
Seems like a great way to get
scratched.)
Our apartment is not quite large enough for me to showcase
all of my houses every year and for whatever reason, the Roomie will not agree
to sleeping in her closet for the month of December so I can transform her
bedroom into a showroom. She’s selfish that way.
Still, I manage to do some sort of display whenever the
holidays roll around. It takes me hours to get it all together and decide not
only where the buildings are situated this year, but also how all the city
folks are going to be interacting.
She’s covering her mouth to hide a smile. He totally said he
was going to come courting and never did.
Serves him right to get jumped on by
a wet dog. Even if that middle-of-the-face beard is hard to resist.
And then I’ve got the folks who are new to town. This
gentleman, for instance, only found his way to my city this year.
He goes by Melvin and is my soul mate:
Carrying way too many
books and kind of blurry.
What more can a girl ask for?
How about you? Any holiday decorations that you look forward
to every year?
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