Glimpses Into Christmas Past---And My Psyche

~Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring.~Proverbs 27:1

Wise words that can be interpreted many ways depending on how you look at it or what you're seeking.  Reading it this morning, I found myself thinking wasn't it ol' Tommy Jefferson who said don't put off till tomorrow what you can do today?  For me---being the professional procrastinator I am---I was reminded of what my little mother was fond of saying when I was guilty of dragging my feet.

~Little girl, you best get after it. That tree ain't gonna decorate its self!~Helen Callahan 

I imagine myself sparkling and witty, but life has a way of shattering any delusions of grandeur I may harbor...'specially in the weeks leading up to Christmas.

I also happen to believe myself a calm, rational, and perfectly sane woman.  And I am for the most part---that is until those red tubs sneak into the house.  Once those crammed-jammed tubs make their way to my kitchen floor, any trace of sanity I might possess---after raising two kids I might add---flies out the window.

(EEK...look at the tops of those grungy boxes!)

Suddenly I start to drool (just a little y'all) and I get this tic thingy going in my left eye  As my teeth begin chattering and I start feeling woozy, I try to remain in an upright position.   Failing miserably---and before I slip into a fetal one---I dig out a brown paper sack from the wrapping paper box, take several deep breaths and wait for my vision to slowly return.

Now, one would think after 40 years of treeing, I'd have this down to a fine art wouldn't one?

Yes, one would think so, but no-o-o...not me.  I'm the pixilated relative you've heard tell of.

Don't have one of those in your family tree?

Obviously then you're not from the South, so let me enlighten y'all.

Let's start with a little quiz why don't we?

Which of these is not like the other?:
A. Decorating for the holidays
B. Putting out Christmas
C.  Decking the halls
or
D.  Bedazzling everything that doesn't move---leastwises not faster than a chubby lady with a handful of icicles---and doesn't require anything taller than a step ladder to get at or to.

(Wha-a-at?  Everybody doesn't decorate attired in Nick & Nora's?)

If you answered D, you would be correct.  You would also be correct in guessing D's an apt definition of moi getting her Ho Ho on.

SQUIRREL ALERT!
(Sigh!  Ho Ho's I shall miss you!)

My plan is...I don't have a plan.  I rarely do the same thing twice, but only 'cause I can't remember what I did the previous year.

(Santa may fly in a sleigh with eight tiny reindeer, but I fly by the seat of my britches.)

So there I sit on the kitchen floor, face in hands, glazed over eyes, sobbing softly to myself  and wondering where to begin.

My problem is simple.  I love Christmas.

I mean I really---really---love Christmas.

I love the smells, the sounds, the colors, and best of all---the shiny.

(The jewel encrusted box was a birthday gift from Carolyn Westbrook and one of my favorite things. Just a little shameless name dropping going on here y'all!)

Knowing there is a ton of shiny waiting to be released from it's year long captivity gets me up off the floor and shaking my tail feathers.

One peek in that first of many boxes y'all and Katie bar the door.  It's all ten lords a'leapin' and Gloriosky!

Bust out the hot chocolate and pass the marshmallows please 'cause I spy rhinestones!

(Everyone should have a cheesy, red felt vest with a plastic martini emblazoned on it.!)

I begin dressing the tree just like I dress me.  Y'all have heard me say on several occasions "If you can't see my bling from across a cow pasture,  it ain't big enough."   Well folks, I'm here to tell you---if you can see branches or the trunk of our trees, then there ain't enough sparkle on 'em!  I want my trees so fandangled, no one can look directly at 'em without Oakley's.  Heck...I want the whole house bright enough to land planes by.


(Twinkle, twinkle little star.  How I wonder which box I put you in. Hey---I never claimed to be a poet.)

I'll be running amuck, throwing glitter, snow and tinsel right up 'til the doorbell begins ringing Christmas Eve.  As I'm swinging from a chandelier, frantically cramming fresh greenery among the prisms, the Oldest Melon-Head will be dragging me down, yanking that last piece of cedar from my grubby little paws.  Instead of the sound of reindeer hooves and a hearty Ho Ho Ho (Twinkies, I think I shall miss thee most of all!)  and to all a good night, it's gonna be my voice y'all will hear ringing through the night----

(Just so's you know...the sign reads "Patient Parking Only".  'Nuff said!)

 "Wait...no...not yet.  Not.quite.finished.  There's still one last box of pink Shiny Brites left in the tub!"

Santa and his big ol' red bag is always full of surprises---and me?

Well...the Bella Mama says it best.

~Mom's just a bag full of crazy!~

Just remember my sweets...the bough doesn't fall very far from the Christmas tree!