Festively plump

My current jolly-song of choice is The Pogues’ Fairy Tale of New York. I love its irreverence and the way it pokes this supposedly happy time of the year in the eye.

Nevertheless, I am still forcing myself to jollidity, so yesterday was spent decorating the Christmas tree and performing precarious balancing acts to get icicle lights on to the front of the house. I think they look pretty awesome, but my wife is disappointed that we are not in the Griswolds’ league, or ever likely to be featured at the Ugly Christmas Lights site. Although actually ours does look somewhat like the “Dazzling Balcony” one. Frankly, the credit card was simply not designed to stretch to those proportions, in light of which I consider one string of twinklies quite enough. We did buy a festive dish cloth though. Oh yeah. The seasonal joy knows no bounds.


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