F. J. Sheed
A cold plunge on a winter morning...Some days are like that, usually not here in the Heart of Dixie, but for this girl who is used to shorts and T-shirts on Christmas morning, today is a cold one. I feel like it has been unusually cold here in Auburn this year. Maybe it's my imagination.
The real truth of the matter is, well, I don't want a cold plunge on a winter morning, whether literal or symbolic, I don't want it, I don't want it...
On to lighter things. I decorated my dorm room for Christmas today. It was just the bit of cheer I needed to brighten my spirits and spur myself on for studying this week. It's going to be a rough one, but my Christmas trees, holiday picture frames, and stocking are hopefully going to give me the inspiration to study...or at least to get out of bed in the morning.
NEWS FLASH: Christmas has officially come to the Savrda house. No, Santa hasn't come yet, but his little elves have been hard at work bringing all the proper Christmas trimmings. I love the smell of the Christmas tree and the house is just beautiful; I mean, absolutely amazing. However, I do need to say this. Every year my mother puts up two things for Christmas that I absolutely despise. (I think she has an unhealthy obsession with yarn that has led to my great aversion of the furry thread.)
The first object of my loathing is really a pair of things, Santa and Mrs. Claus felt heads, to be exact. Yeah, heads made of (maybe) 2 liter bottles and various red and white felt. They are truly disturbing 3D life-size heads. Santa, complete with a white yarn beard, and Mrs. Claus, of course, with her spectacles and little white yarn bun atop her head, peer down from the bookcase as we try to enjoy the holidays in front of the television. See, not only do the Clauses have googly eyes to complete their "look", but, in addition, their already ridiculous peepers have yellowed where the whites once were. Just picture girlscout-make-your-own-Santa-and-Mrs.-Claus craft meets those old-portraits-where-the-eyes-follow-you-around-the-room meets a severe-case-of-jaundice-at-the-North-Pole. It's pretty disturbing.
And now, my least favorite Christmas decoration. To give you a bit of background, we have this tradition of reserving the upstairs for nice Christmas decorations (ie. tree, keepsake ornaments, stockings, etc.) and downstairs for "whimsical" hand-maid macaroni decorations/electronic "Macarena" booty-shakin' Santa Claus gag gift display area. Naturally, the yarn Santa and Mrs. Claus respectfully remain downstairs. There is good separation of these two very different worlds. However, without fail, each year there is a breach of this important division.
The stockings (embroidered with 6 beautiful Christmas scenes and each of our names) are hung by the chimney with care (with their fancy 10+ lb. hooks), in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there... Only what does Father Christmas see when he finally makes his descent down that brick-lined chute? Yes, cookies, milk, and a nice note from us kids. And as he turns around to fill the stockings...BAM!!! It jumps out at him. A giant "carpet" wreath hanging on the chimney right above those fancy stockings. Carpet? Why carpet? Let me indulge you. It's a latch hook "creation". It matches the tree skirt that the Savrda girls finally finished a couple years ago.
You probably have no idea what that is. It's really a lost art...that should remain lost. One takes 4'' long pieces of, yeah, you guessed it, yarn, in various colors (white, two shades of green, bright red, crimson) to match the pattern of the image you are creating (a wreath), and uses a latch hook needle to loop the yarn through the backing. After approximately, uh, six million (give or take) pieces of yarn are attached the beautiful masterpiece is then complete! It's lovely, really, for the floor, to walk on, not to hang over the dramatic mantle with the fancy nutcrackers and beautiful stockings. Yet, every year, there it is, to the absolute delight of my mother and father. It's some sort of sick tradition. Every year it comes out of the box looking battered and bruised, and every year, it goes back up on that wall. Every year my protests fall on deaf, and stubborn, ears, and this year is no different; the tradition lives on. But, oh well, isn't that what time with the family at Christmas is all about? That stinkin' carpet wreath on the wall, and how stinkin' happy it makes my stinkin' family. And, let's face it, it's probably a good landmark to let Santa know that he jumped down the right chimney. "Oh, good, I'm back at the Savrda's...Let's see, two naughties and four nices, an improvement from last year..." He probably jokes about it with the reindeer, "You guys should see this carpet on the mantle. It's ridiculous!" And Rudolph, with his nose so bright, reminds Santa and all of the other reindeer that they shouldn't hate. But, seriously Santa, laugh all you want...as long as you know where to leave the presents, that stinkin' carpet is alright with me.
1 comment:
haha peeper.
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