I started off this season with a promise to myself not to buy any more Christmas decorations. There comes a point when the box marked “Christmas” in big sharpie letters is too full to get back into the attic. That point has arrived. And still I’m temped by huge metal reindeer and partridge in a pear tree salt and pepper shakers. But reality check. The Christmas box is already so heavy that it was dropped down the attic steps this year and spilled across the garage floor. A snowman was broken, and a few ornaments, and the ceramic hay under Baby Jesus’ manger.
A lazy ornament rolled across the garage and stopped underneath the car and all I could think about was my promise to myself not to buy replacements. Turns out the broken bits were just a few and there were plenty of other ornaments to fill the tree, but the box incident got me thinking. Back up into the attic we went and picked through other boxes. I pulled down metal cars, mason jars and a red thermos and we decorated with things rummaged.
I was this close to getting rid of that red truck last year. I thought I’d never use it for anything but decorating a little boys’ room.
Greenery from the discarded tree branches and a deer from the boys’ toy box. That thermos belonged to my grandfather. He’d take it with him to play golf on cold winter days. He once told me it held the perfect amount of hot chocolate, just enough to warm you up.
Tucker wishes I would put down the camera and join him on the couch. We have the laziest dog I’ve ever met.
Yeah. You knew there’d be a stack of books. Jonathan helped me arrange the table with burlap, mason jar snow globes, and a few spare glasses we stocked with greenery cut from our backyard.
It was 72 degrees today and beautiful. The only snow we see this year may be the stuff inside these jars. Which is just fine.