I get these fun little itches around the holidays that just have to be scratched. So, on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, I decided it was time to hang those Christmas lights on the house. All while my parents were at work and only my sister was there to hold the ladder and hopefully keep me from tumbling to my death. Well, that's too dramatic since I actually spent most of the time up on the roof, leaning over the edge. It took only about 2 1/2 hours to get everything hung, and that's not even everything, but everything that requires me being on the roof. Whatever's left can wait for another day. But you know the really fun thing is that all of these lights on the roof are colored lights!
Because I can't get enough of colored Christmas lights! Oh sure, I know, the white drippy icicles on all the eaves in town are pretty and pure like snow. Maybe that's my problem! They're just too. . .white. It makes me think that I'm walking through a land of tinsel or something. Or maybe it's just the simple fact that those colored lights bring to mind Bing Crosby, Miracle on 34th Street, and the lights my grandmother had on her tree.
There's nothing wrong with white lights. For some people they will induce beautiful memories. For me, it's those humongous colored bulbs that make me think of a runway for Santa. You see, the last couple of years we haven't hung those lights on the house and it felt like something was missing. It probably sounds silly, but when I turn the corner to my house at night, and those lights have been switched on by a loved one, that's when it really feels like Christmas. It's the coming home that makes Christmas a celebration, the love we hold for one another, and the love Christ extended to us that first moment when He was born in a manger. Let's just say those gaudy Christmas bulbs strung on the outside of my house are the first step towards immense amounts of Christmas cheer! Plus, I didn't break my neck! *grins*