I started decorating for Christmas today. My sister says it looks like “Santa puked in my house” because of all the sparkles. I like it.
For years I’d buy a new decoration at Ball’s Falls Festival. I had a criteria: it had to be bigger than a ornament and it had to be lit from the inside. I put these decorations on my mantle over my fireplace and I am so grateful to have a fireplace to decorate. I add lights and garland and a Merry Christmas sign spelled out in red, green and white.
I remember each decoration. I remember the smell of fall and if it was raining, sunny or snowing. I remember wearing fall sweaters with fun scarves that would be too hot if the sun was shining. I remember the joy in finding the right one and sorrow at departing with my money to buy it.
It’s been about three years since I’ve been to the festival in Vineland. I’ve got all the excuses: work, life, farm, animals and a new husband. I’m going next year and I’m going to find a christmas decoration that glows from the inside. It brings me joy at least once a year.
I have the same memories as I pulled out childhood ornaments to put on the tree. I found one ball with the date 1988 when I first started saving. I recognize the ones my siblings and I made as children. I hang them with joy.
I came across sparkle balls I bought at The Bay on sale one year when I moved into my first home. I had a purple and silver theme that year wanting a perfect tree, but I couldn’t help myself and had to hang the ball with 1988. It is magic. It’s what makes this old farm house glow with Santa puke.
I can hardly wait for company. I can hardly wait until the house is full of friends and family. I like company. I like the old farm house to be happy.