Seasonal cheer

Ah, the holidays. Good times abounding. Natalie and I decorated the tree on Saturday while listening to the Charlie Brown Chistmas soundtrack. I even strung up lights on the porch and the house looks fabulous.

This does, however, return me to a debate on Christmas tree lights and holiday aesthetics in general which I have with Mary and her fellow Westchesterite siblings. I grew up with a twinkling tree, not a blinking one. That is, the lights blinked irregularly, so that the tree twinkled. All these swanky yankees I married into, however, insist that Christmas tree lights should be static. Some even advocate for white lights. Boring.

As far as yards go, we drive by big fancy houses now with restrained lighting on their bushes and Mary praises them and I'm just like: where are the glowing sleighs, reindeer, elves, candycanes and whatnot? Why no blinking? That's the stuff that defined the destination yards when I was a kid. Not that you would want all that crap in your own yard, or your neighbor's, for that matter, but you could appreciate that somebody had done all that work and really brought the season to life. And you got in your car and drove there.

I had meant to write about holiday card and party and all that, but I see 15 minutes have gone by. Back to coal mine.