I'm the girl that likes Christmas.
Every year I have a different theme for the tree. Last year it was red and white and decorated with glass candy canes, peppermints and snowmen. This year it was ice blue, cool green and a touch of apricot (not orange, not gold ... apricot).
I have a dining room window that's about 24 inches deep. Perfect for stringing mini-lights and suspending oversized ornaments from fishing line. It's also the perfect place for my baby deer, in all her clear-light glory, to graze upon fake snow that has been scattered on a huge mirror beneath her feet. The mirror reflects the lights from above and the effect is ... ahhhhhh, lovely.
I have candles that sit in nests of cranberries. Real fucking cranberries.
Lit garland wraps itself over and around and down the banister.
I create an enormous wreath from the cuttings of my 6-8 foot tall tree.
The kids and I make reindeer food out of oats, powdered sugar and glitter. We spread it on the rooftop and on the sidewalk.
I make things like Brandy Glazed Ham and Leek Gratin.
I fucking love Christmas.
And I'm so fucking over it, too.
My Christmas starts in early October when I see Santa's fat face looking at me in Ross's while I'm trying to forge for glass pumpkins. He shows up in my garage in November when I try to find the box marked Autumn/Fall Serving Plates and instead I find Christmas Lights Box 2 of 6.
And now, two days after my son woke up at 4:00 in the morning to tell me Santa ate the cookies and drank all the milk, I'm over it. I still have a skatepark to take out of it's protective NASA-made shell, a set of walkie talkies that need nine volt batteries (the only kind I don't have) and a Transformer mask that needs some kind of assembling. Boss Lady can't find her Moxy Girl's boots and Legal went out last night and is now puking in the bathroom.
All that's left for me to do is take down the decorations, wrap up this year's colored ornaments and recycle this 6-8 foot fire hazard.
The reindeer food is frozen and stuck to the sidewalk and must now be chiseled away.
Scotch tape has to be peeled off of the couch and I'll have to vacuum at least four more times to get the sparkles out of the carpet. Why are there sparkles in the carpet? I have no idea.
My roasting pan still has a layer of Brandy Glaze and will soak for another 2 days.
At least I have the 50% Off All Wrapping Paper brawl to look forward to at Wal*Mart. Make no mistake ... Miss Spoken will cut a bitch over some discounted foil gift wrap.
What about you Innernetterz? Will I be seeing you at the Wal*Mart cage match or were you over the holidays a month ago?