Christmas Curb Appeal

It’s 10:41pm. George Winston’s piano permeates the background. I can hear the wind bluster outside my studio window. My mouth is parched from the green tea just consumed as my feet are attempting to acclimate to the inside temperatures.

My husband has successfully installed the new storm door and I have donned as much Christmas cheer as I can -in the yard. To my misfortune, I cannot hang my rope garland from the eves because the gutter gards Andrew installed earlier this year prevent me from doing so. I was able to adorn the mail box with natural green, hang the lighted wreath (after cutting off the malfunctioning light strand and wrapping a new strand), and wrap my little ivy-laden obelisk with white lights.

It’s not as festive as some of the houses in the ‘hood, but it does convey pagan aspirations. Speaking of secular, our blow-out holiday is Halloween… and the folks on this block know it.

Doh! Now on to the holiday cards that are becoming excruciatingly late.

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