Three clay angels with different color dresses. The long gold icicle we would each hope to find first, everyone wanted to be the one to hang it. The little red apples we hung near the bottom of the tree so that if bumped by a dog or small child, there was nothing to break.
I remember plugging the lights in as soon as we got home from school, lying on the floor, doing my homework, my worksheets bathed in green, blue and red light. Every day, I would inspect the tree, note the ornaments: the spiral one covered in tin foil my sister made, the paper one with my little sister’s 1st grade picture.
Waiting for Christmas was a particular kind of decorated, brightly lit, multi-colored, tinseled purgatory. The Sears catalog with pages bent, pictures circled: white knee-high boots and a poncho, a Barbie salon, a charm necklace. We were strategic with our wishes.
I like the decorations gaudy. Then and now. We don’t do much besides a tree, but I love the huge multi-colored lights that demonstrate no restraint or decorum. We didn’t worry about such things in the ‘70’s. We were wearing bellbottom jeans and yo-yo shoes. We were feathered hair and home perms. We danced to the BeeGees and The Commodores.
I am wishing as hard as I can; I decorate accordingly.
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