It is that time of year, ladies and… well, ladies. If there are any boys in the house, come forward lad, make yourself known! After all, you’re a dude, in a sea of women. Don’t be sad about that. The odds? Are they ever in your favor, Homeslice.
So, yeah. That sparkley sliver of calendar hath descended upon us once again. It’s time to break out ye olde Christmas decorations and deck thy halls with boughs of holly* and ribbons of string lights, known to the state of California to cause cancer. So don’t eat them. Or chew the cords. Toast, Dakota and Dixie – I’m lookin’ at you.
*Does anyone really do that? I mean, I have borne witness to many a Christmas display, and not a once have I ever come face to face with a bough of motherflippin’ holly. We’ve been lyrically lied to.
So, without further verbiage, I give you, my and Mr. PB’s halls – Now Decked! We also decked the dog.
Contemplating the neediest tree. I always try to select the fir with the least chance of being adopted. Charlie Brown, man. Kid scarred me for life.
“Tree, would you like to come home with us? Yes you would.”
Mr. PB carries our new evergreen friend over the threshold.
The next day we get to decking. But first someone has to scurry on up to the attic for the holiday finery. Why are you looking at me? I’ll be right here. Hand it on down.
Outside first. There’s Charlie Brown again.
Mmmm candy canes… I may have licked one.
Why is it that some years, you summon forth all of your holiday lights from their storage slumber, and you find that they’ve all gone belly up? Is there some sort of 3.5 volt plague that sweeps through attics and EZ Self Storage at will and random, leaving in its wake untold numbers of 20 foot multi-bright death and destruction?
Does CVS offer a vaccine for this?
Even the birds will have a festive house this holiday season.
Stringing up the survivors.
Outside is done. On to the interior. Come on, keep it movin’! Trees to be trimmed, halls to be decked!
I wanted in on the action. The tree shouldn’t have all the fun.
My tree was a model this year. Strike a pose, Fir!
My fiance hangs ornaments like this. Hooks? Pshaw! Ain’t nobody got time for that.
And yes. We decked the dog. No one escapes the Great Decking! Muah ha ha!
“Why you do this?”
Snowflakes and ISOs.
Here I go, licking the plastic things again. Doesn’t that look delicious?! I used to gnaw on the plastic scented donuts in my kitchen playsets when I was a kid, too. Perhaps that warning label about cancer in California is aimed at me…
This little flower has adorned my tree since I was about 5. Meaning it might be older than you.
I painted this one.
My first stocking. Also probably older than you at 31 years. It used to read Dayna.
I’m stopping, I’m stopping! I need to get some real candy…
Frosty the snowman, used to be a music box. But he got real old and his knob fell off and now he’s just a snowman.
That’s my Christmas song. I’m auditioning for The Voice next year.
So there you have it. Halls – DECKED. House – REEKS OF TREE.
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas… toooooys in every store!