Deck the Halls

I am so blessed to “know” so many crafty, talented bloggers. And, well, this time of year, it’s been amazing to witness the glorious, gorgeous Christmas decor they manage to pull together and display. I love it. Love seeing the beauty, love being inspired by their creativity, love enjoying the warmth of their holiday homes. But…
Oh, how I hate that “but”. But there it is…
But it makes me feel bad. But I feel like I don’t measure up. But I don’t seem to have that “crafty gene”. But I didn’t even think to decorate the soffit above my cabinets…
But.
It’s not those talented ladies’ faults. No, ma’am. Not at all. It’s all in my head. It’s time I take you on a little tour, folks…
Welcome to my home.

See that wreath? Yeah, I didn’t make it. I bought it. At Walmart. About four years ago. Many, many little hands have enjoyed ringing those jingle bells over the years…

Ah, my beloved Three Kings. My late maternal grandmother made them. I adored them as a child and my mom passed them on to me when I had my own home.
They’re not on a lovely decorated mantel (my mantel is in a chaotic playroom) or on a lovely, festive table (too many little hands could reach them). Nope, instead they are on the top of a tall hutch. But I can still see them. And I love them.

On to the tree…
You don’t think a smorgasbord of pink, silver, green, purple, gold, etc. ornaments is going to land me the cover of Country Living? Me neither. But they sparkle and shine with the children’s favorite colors. And not a one of them is heirloom or breakable.

Why, yes, that IS an impaled snowman. The one-year old put him there. I like him just like that.

What’s that you say? It’s not proper to hang three ornaments all on the same branch? Well, you and I both know that, but the four-year old didn’t get the memo. And she thought it looked amazing…

And, oh yes, our star…
It’s crooked. No surprise there… tradition dictates that we let the youngest child help put it up. I imagine it’ll be a few years before it’s nice and straight.

But when I step back and take in the whole picture…
Or, more importantly, focus on the details that matter…

I see curiosity and wonder and little hands that are allowed to touch…

The glow of soft lights on a precious baby’s face….

…and the sheer joy and merriment of having a perfectly decorated home.

Merry Christmas.

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Deck the Halls

I am so blessed to “know” so many crafty, talented bloggers. And, well, this time of year, it’s been amazing to witness the glorious, gorgeous Christmas decor they manage to pull together and display. I love it. Love seeing the beauty, love being inspired by their creativity, love enjoying the warmth of their holiday homes. But…
Oh, how I hate that “but”. But there it is…
But it makes me feel bad. But I feel like I don’t measure up. But I don’t seem to have that “crafty gene”. But I didn’t even think to decorate the soffit above my cabinets…
But.
It’s not those talented ladies’ faults. No, ma’am. Not at all. It’s all in my head. It’s time I take you on a little tour, folks…
Welcome to my home.

See that wreath? Yeah, I didn’t make it. I bought it. At Walmart. About four years ago. Many, many little hands have enjoyed ringing those jingle bells over the years…

Ah, my beloved Three Kings. My late maternal grandmother made them. I adored them as a child and my mom passed them on to me when I had my own home.
They’re not on a lovely decorated mantel (my mantel is in a chaotic playroom) or on a lovely, festive table (too many little hands could reach them). Nope, instead they are on the top of a tall hutch. But I can still see them. And I love them.

On to the tree…
You don’t think a smorgasbord of pink, silver, green, purple, gold, etc. ornaments is going to land me the cover of Country Living? Me neither. But they sparkle and shine with the children’s favorite colors. And not a one of them is heirloom or breakable.

Why, yes, that IS an impaled snowman. The one-year old put him there. I like him just like that.

What’s that you say? It’s not proper to hang three ornaments all on the same branch? Well, you and I both know that, but the four-year old didn’t get the memo. And she thought it looked amazing…

And, oh yes, our star…
It’s crooked. No surprise there… tradition dictates that we let the youngest child help put it up. I imagine it’ll be a few years before it’s nice and straight.

But when I step back and take in the whole picture…
Or, more importantly, focus on the details that matter…

I see curiosity and wonder and little hands that are allowed to touch…

The glow of soft lights on a precious baby’s face….

…and the sheer joy and merriment of having a perfectly decorated home.

Merry Christmas.

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