Raise your hand if you think it's okay if I stop the tree decking with just twinkle and bubble lights this year.
Thanks. I believe I will.
Looks good, right?
(A new book and the couch are calling my name this dreary Sunday. The decorations, not so much.)
I found a few of the old boys for the mantel.
And I unearthed these from my childhood:
When my brothers closed out our apartment in New York many years ago, an enormous truck delivered all the geegaws and doodads and blonde furniture that had been our parents'. Of all the china, glassware and 1940s-era stuff that made the cross-country trip, only the O in NOEL was damaged.
Seems appropriate it was the O. As in, "O! Kansas City? Never heard of it." (New York angels are very sassy.)
I never did find the missing bit.
My brothers, both thousands of years older than I am, took great joy in rearranging the choir each Christmas. LEON was one variation. Another:
As in, "ELNO we won't go!" Afterall, it was the 1960s.
Much, much later came the final anagram, unimaginable when these girls first were made 60+ years ago:
If you're thinking we have too much time on our hands, you would be right. I could have had the entire tree decorated by now.
Instead, we've been busy stirring the first batch of the season:
And what says Christmas more than Chex cereal baked in too much butter and Seasoned Salt?
Care to share your odd Christmas memories? I'd love to hear them. Leave me a comment.