Happy Kitschmas and cocoa

We’ve purchased a little Christmas tree. It’s a beautiful tree. As it is there is not much room in our little box house to put up a tree, but decorating for the holidays brings lots of laughs peppered with bickering kids who can’t agree on who gets to put the tree topper on this year, but mostly it’s a joyous occasion.

I’ve pulled all of our Christmas kitsch out of basement as well. This is the time of year my bookshelf gets hidden by laughing Santas, snowmen that look like they’ve gotten into a little too much nog and little Bavarian buildings coated in glitter for the glistening snowy effect. The true effect is that everywhere I turn there is glitter on things. My creative son, also known as Kid One, would say that it just looks like it’s snowing in our house. He’s enamored by the little snow village and looks forward to setting it out each year. He had hoped to find the wayward bag of pillow stuffing that has moved with me over the years, my intention being that I could make stuffed animals rather than buy them, or make pillows, or make anything that might need a little stuffing. Instead, we decided to put it on some strange piece of fabric I’ve kept for the same reasons I kept the pillow stuffing. Now, it looks like the village is on terrain found in Sedona, Arizona, rather than anything resembling the North Pole.

Half the kitsch I’ve collected comes from my mother, the women who was adamantly against me buying my own kitsch, but swooned at the very site of a ceramic rooster pitcher.

This is a Santa my mom gave to my dear personal chef…er partner J

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