Month: December 2012

Making Merry: The Ornaments

Last fall I was in my favorite thrift store when my cell phone rang.  It was my cousin and he wanted to know if I wanted something of his.  He had offered it to my sisters and sister-in-law and they all turned him down and said to call me.

His wife had died the year before and he didn’t think he’d ever put up much in the way of Christmas decorations.  That was her thing not his and if I was interested in some of their stuff he’d save it for me.

I was.

Just before New Year’s we went to his house and he started hauling out boxes.  Plenty of it was stuff I didn’t need and we put that in a pile to donate.  Then he showed me boxes of ornaments.  Glass vintage ornaments and oh, pitter-pat.  Some were ones they bought years ago and some were his mom’s.   

Belle?  These were Belle’s?  As in Mallory Belle.

One in the same.

After nearly a year in my basement I brought them out, and there were so many of them I couldn’t put them all on the tree.  I have never have loved decorating the tree part of Christmas, but this year was different thanks to my new old ornaments.

I was finishing up and had two vacuum cleaners out and the slipcovers in the wash.  In the middle of my very big mess my friend came over to return the chairs she borrowed for Thanksgiving and I told her about Belle and Carol’s ornaments. 

She stood next to me admiring the tree and said, “Oh my goodness, you know they’re right here.  I can feel them.”

Yes, I know.

What a perfect way to start the season

Making Merry: The Lights

It has been our experience that maybe the Chinese are trying to break us, drive us to Crazy Town, send us over the edge.  It’s those lights.  Those bloody #%&*@#% Christmas lights.

Last year, half the tree went out less than a week into the season.  This year I started with three strands.  They all worked.  I sent The Big Daddy to the hardware store for another set.

They worked.  I unplugged them.  I plugged them back in and there was one little bitty one that wasn’t lit.  The Big Daddy said that’s o.k.  Just one is o.k.  That’s how they work now.  If one goes out it doesn’t take them all out.

No.  No.  Let me just pull this one out and put it back in.

No, don’t, said The Big Daddy.  Just leave it alone.

I couldn’t leave it alone and that is how half the strand went dark and The Big Daddy bellowed, “WHY CAN’T YOU EVER LEAVE THE LIGHTS ALONE WOMAN??????!!!!”

Because I can’t. 

Maggie and Nate showed up for the fun shitstorm and grabbed the camera.  Here’s me acting like I know how to fix the lights.  I am cursing.

Here’s The Big Daddy checking out the situation.  He is cursing.

 And here he is after he got them working again.

Made in China lights versus The Gun Show?  Smackdown.

Making Merry: The Tree

The Big Daddy and I have been going back and forth about a tree.  Real or fake?  Actually, I’m the one going back and forth.  He doesn’t participate in my anxiety-filled decisions as they are frequent.  And quite meaningless.  

After shopping around for a fake one I made a last try at The Hob Lob.  I found a skinny, flocked frasier fir that was pre-lit.  Marked half price at $199.00 and it was the perfect fit for my little living room.  I stared and stared at it but couldn’t bring myself to pay that much money for a fake tree.  A fake tree made in China.

The decision was made.

On Friday night we decided to go to the local hardware store’s tree lot which is where I fell in love with the tree salesman.  He was bustling around by himself when we showed up and started talking to him.  He was about our age or a little older and has been working there since August.  Moving all those mums and pumpkins and now trees these past few months and he’s lost fifteen pounds.  

We picked our tree out and he cut the bottom of the trunk and down below were all these little wood tree circles and I asked if I could have a few for something I want to make.  “Well, heck, you can have ’em all,” he said.  I was going to have a couple feet of garland cut and he scrounged a couple of  branches on the ground and threw those in so I wouldn’t have to buy any garland.  “You folks are the recycling type, aren’t ya?”  Why yes we are.

I went inside for something and when I came out he and Mark were having a deep discussion about composting.  Come here after dark and you can raid the dumpster for all the compost you need, he told us.  Then he wished us a merry everything and said we made his night a little more fun.

When I was a little girl, my dad would sometimes take me to the hardware store on Saturday mornings and I would hold the brown paper bag while he counted nails and dropped them in.  Don’t mix ’em up, Kate.  We’ve got to keep them straight.  We’d carry them up to the front to pay, walking along the creaky wood floor and one of the employees would always say to my dad, “Looks like you brought a little helper along today.”  Yep, Dad would say and she’s a good one.

Guys who work in hardware stores……..a crush that goes way back.