Hi there, guys and dolls! Well, no matter where you are in the northern hemisphere, the days are getting definitely shorter and in most places a little chillier. And with the holiday season upon us, it’s most likely time to brighten the place up a little with the neighborhood display of festive Christmas lights.
Now for me, those danged things are more a nuisance than a sense of joy. The tangled, wretched things drive me nuts. And of course, with my set (think back, I’m in the fifties) one goes out, they all go out (then figuring out which one or ones is/are out, each miserable bulb at a miserable time and more than one time I’ve had a spark strong enough (whatever you do, don’t scratch that black bit at the bottom in the socket, trust me that ain’t dirt, zzt!) not to worry about getting a permanent wave for a while or being able to form complete sentences for a few minutes (and it saves on a cigarette if you’re smoking from the electric shock rather than a filter tip, that’s me, always looking for the bright side). If I can’t be bothered to rook a friend into hanging them up for me, the outside stays unlit.
The competition among the nieghbors is fierce, however. The Smiths, Joneses, Lopezes display of lightbulb engorgement is truly something to see. One tries to top the other until it develops into this huge orgy that I am sure aliens from outer space could see and interpret that our planet is exploding.
This year is no exception, with I think the Smiths taking it by a nose, or a bulb. Rumor has it they cleared out the department, hardware and variety stores in the area, hoarding the strings that even if they couldn’t use it, then by golly, the Joneses and the Lopezes couldn’t stand a chance to outshine.
And how thoughtful. Just a few minutes ago, just as I was about to put my TV Dinner in the oven, a loud pop and zap came through the lights, poof went the living room lamp and the whole street went dark. Thanks, Smiths, Joneses and Lopezes for hogging the power and launching the neighborhood in the dark. Weenie roast bonfire in the middle of the street anyone? Bundle up, buttercups. Think it’s going to be a dark, chilly night. Wonder what Biff, Tom, Dick or Harry is doing?
Thanks for reading and stay tuned for more posts. And don’t forget to give my Poppy Cove Mysteries a try if you haven’t already.
Toodles, Barbara Jean
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