Red and cheerful, the house looks wonderful.
Christmas lights adorning the yard, electrified Mr. and Mrs. Claus waving a hello, and soldiers guarding the entry stand welcoming. The inside Santa placing a hat on frosty snowman hangs on the wall. Hubby's prized pirate figurine even sports a miniature Santa hat, fur ball thrown over left shoulder! A manger scene set before mirrored glass reminds us why this season of goodwill exists.
The cat purrs her contentment, in the same room as the wood stove; she curls herself into a shiny black ball, laying on orange terry cloth discarded atop a flower garland, and she's looking like a centerpiece ... until she opens her mouth and exposes pink tongue and white teeth in a yawn of faked disinterest.
No fireplace, but the stairs support red stockings trimmed in white fur. All stockings, even the girlfriend's and the one expected in Spring, are full and bulging. Their peaks of many gifts, and the peeking of gifts with eyes, were tempting early investigations - candy? chocolate? trinket? book? stuffed animal? a thousand dollars?
Back rooms ready and waiting for guests.
Bathroom soap dispenser is red-nosed.
Kitchen secrets food for devourment, the freezer knows of happy dishes, the appliances held forth linens of the season, and the counter tauts "Here's the cake!"
As supposed to be, the food would be an answer to taste buds. Taste buds waiting in expectation of specific flavors - new and exciting, old and remembered, current and wanting.
The table's haphazardly set with not enough forks, and unmatching chairs parked willy nilly here and there under the table with added leaves.
The sought coffee pot's set up for early morning risers and day drinkers.
Gifts of red and white, green and red, and silvery blue are piled higher than the lowest Christmas tree branch -- which reaches out in protection. It interweaves decorations of trains, airplanes, Hallmark pups, Starbuck cups, gold baubles, and glittery bulbs with light strands a'plenty. Amongst the candy canes on every branch are added a "Believe", a "Noel", and a treetop star heralding "Merry Christmas".
No Rockwell painting here, nothing perfect, no life yet.
Words, these words, brush stroke a tinsel and bright family portrait -- they're coming.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment