My husband Chuck started taking all of our Christmas décor down from the attic yesterday. There is stuff piled all over. I LOVE the Christmas season and tend to delve into all that it entails, especially the decorating part. Over the years we have accumulated what seems like hundreds of decorative items, including about eighteen two-foot-high Santa Clauses — dressed in a variety of attractive outfits — which I place in various parts of the house, usually coordinating room color with Santa’s ensemble. My two Chef Santas naturally hang out in the kitchen for the holidays.
The actual decorating starts the day after Thanksgiving, and over the weekend the plan is to usually get the twinkle lights up outside. That is the plan, anyway. This year will prove to be more of a challenge.
Chuck’s mother has lovingly passed along to us a Christmas Village. Boxes and boxes of small — and not-so-small — buildings, figures, landscape (including trees, bushes, flowers), Styrofoam background painted to look like mountains, etc.
This Christmas village was transported from Apache Junction, Arizona to our San Diego home, via an SUV driven by Chuck’s sister Barb and her husband Reed. The car was packed, and a few days later, 3 big boxes of more Christmas Village components arrived via UPS.
I am honored and appreciative that my mother-in-law would pass on such a treasured holiday possession to us, but I almost wish we had a third story on our house in which to display it.
I cannot bear the thought of not being able to display our regular Christmas décor, simply to make room for the village — I imagine my Santas, snowmen and other characters all sitting and crying up in the attic — so we’ll just have to figure out a way to make it work. It’s going to work; even if it looks like our house is a Christmas Village unto itself, it’s gonna work!
Wow, just getting this affirmation out in writing washes feelings of empowerment and optimism over me. And isn’t that what the holidays should be about? Not so sure about the empowerment part, but optimism rings as loud and clear as department store Christmas music in November. Glass half full —even though your wallet may not be — just seems to be the attitude of choice.
Our house could very well look like a Christmas store by the time the decorating project is complete; we may have to have a party just so we’re not the only ones admiring the interiors. We’re going to have a bitch of a time finding places to store all this stuff once the holidays are over. Sucks to be us. Not!
Our glass is half full — but most of the time, it is our cup that runneth over.
Wired for Whimsy 