It must be time to write about Christmas decorations. I’ve been collecting since the first year I was married. I used to be able to recall every decoration, where and when I bought it, but no more. There are just too many. My mind has said goodbye to those particular memories, making room for more current information.
I went through a spell when I thought the multitude of ornamentation might be a bit overdone. I am a proponent of the shove-it-in style of decorating. Then I read where everything we do should be done to the best of our ability, as glory to God. So, let me show you what’s up at my house.
Of course, there is the elf shrine (left)—kind of the same, but never exactly. Those elves seem to make a bigger mess every year.
This is a shelf (right) I found when I cleaned out the garage. It’s one of my favorite spots this Christmas. The three elves are the first Christmas decorations I ever bought.
Below is another favorite. I got these Enesco mice at the Road to California Quilt Show last January and almost forgot about them. They remind me what fun it is to collect, something I haven’t done lately. I think they are darling—so darling, I may need to track down a few more.
I love the really old decorations, ones that have been around since I was a child—ones that belonged to my mom or aunts. They are scattered around the house. The vintage Santa on my dining table (below) was one of my mom’s favorites. I remember when she got it.
As long as I can recall, my aunts bickered about who would inherit the cow creamer. Through no fault of my own, I seem to have it. One close look made me wonder what all the hubbub was about. It’s obviously in poor shape. My aunts’ historic fascination is completely lost on me. I added a wreath around its neck to be properly festive and I’m sure I’ll keep it always, but I don’t know why.
More touching is an old, framed Christmas card signed by my Aunt Lucille (below). She died of appendicitis before I was born. A woman in her prime, she never married or had children. All too soon, no one will remember her. That is all our fates. No matter how our monument reads, there will come a day when not a soul on earth has a memory of us. But I like to think the sparkle of our celebrations will live on in the scent of turkey roasting, the echo of jingle bells, the gleam of polished silver and the bubbles in a glass of champagne. We are what remains of our ancestors.
What’s your favorite or most alarming holiday decoration?