1 post tagged “sugar-plum faeries”

I'd promised myself I'd wait until at least the weekend before Thanksgiving, but yesterday my resolve crumbled and I gave in to the seductive whispers of the Christmas decorations in my attic. "Let us out!" they hissed, their faint jingling drifting down the stairs. "It is time! Release us from our cardboard prisons!"

As soon as I opened the door they burst out and tumbled down the stairs; and before I could impose some kind of order on their mad, glittery dash for decorative prominence, they had fanned out and taken up stations covering every spare inch of my house: the back of the piano, the shelves in the living room, even sprouting from lampposts and curtain rods, where they twinkled merrily and smelled faintly of cheerfulness.

The Thanksgiving decorations have maintained one last stronghold against the red-and-green tide of insurgent Santas and snowmen, but they hang on with a sort of grimness, knowing that they're outnumbered, knowing that it's only a matter of time. They have barricaded themselves on the window seat in my dining room, but the rebel forces have cut off all their supply lines, leaving them to subsist only on visions of sugarplums. There's little for them to be thankful for this year.

I'm continually amazed, whenever we break out the holiday trimmings, at how many of our decorations are musical or otherwise noise-oriented. The number is up this year, much to the delight of my children and displeasure of my husband, as I've recently purchased Hallmark's new Very Merry Trio, As Seen On TV. The cute little snowman and his two little penguin pals dance, sing, and shake their tailfeathers as the lights on their Christmas tree flicker and the tinny strains of "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" fill the air. It's adorable, and it adds a fresh twist to the cacophony created by simultaneously playing every singing toy in our home.

This is David's favorite holiday pastime, a tradition that he's now handing down to his younger brother: to line up all the singing, dancing, jingling decorations we own and push all their buttons, creating sweet sounds rivaled only by tossing the entire Mormon Tabernacle Choir in a blender and pressing "liquefy."

We'll see how long we can hold out before we remove all the batteries and throw them away, or box ourselves up, dejectedly, along with the war-weary Thanksgiving decorations - letting the holly and the ivy, the nutcrackers and angels and Santas and snowmen and reindeer and silver bells, have the house to themselves, to loot and plunder and blink festively until Valentine's Day.