"The poorest, the weakest, the simplest child, is born for immortality. This value outweighs the entire material universe, no matter how small a mark this child makes on it. The tiniest infant owns a deathless intellect, and is as immortal as the Father of spirits. No one can tell what this child will become."

~ A Prebyterian Pastor who died in 1873


"And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise."

~ (Deuteronomy 6:6-7)

Wednesday, December 10, 2008


Dear Historical Society:

Each year you host a contest of the best Christmas Décor as the subject… The first year I moved into the neighborhood I decorated in beautiful evergreen swags and vibrant peacock feathers, with bright green apples and limes (thanks to my mother’s decorative touch.) It was so great and I just new I would win AT LEAST 3rd place in 1 of the many categories you have. I rushed outside early the morning after the judging to see no winning sign. Not even an honorable mention. So the next year I decided to boycott, (or cut off my nose to spite my face.)
So after a year of cooling off from unjustified defeat I enlisted the help of my very talented mom AND my sisters one of which may I add has an art degree (among others) from Birmingham Southern and I knew with her on the team our house would be a shoe in.

We started Thanksgiving Day after lunch and finished up the day after, before Andrea and Brett had to go back to Birmingham.



We worked very hard, it was a team effort and Stuart even cleaned up our yard while we decorated so everything would look pristine. I have really gotten into the spirit this year and I know it’s because of our little monkey but I just love to wrap and make bows and I can’t wait for Jack to help me put up the tree next year.









So back to the contest of “it’s who you know” (I am renaming it :) only because I am slightly bitter )
We weren’t exactly sure when the judging was so every night when I got home I would drive in front of the house to make sure the spot lights were pointed just right and the wind had not blown anything over and everyday I straitened and fluffed. I always know when it’s close because the weekend before everyone starts decorating and getting ready. This year not many houses participated and I had no warning so imagine my surprise as I am driving to work this morning and see a 3rd place Fantasy sign. I almost choked on my coffee as I sped up and took the first one way street (the wrong way) back to my house. I KNEW there would be a sign I just didn’t know what place I would win. So as I am pulling up I see Bupkiss, Nada, and Zilch. I thought to myself “Well, why on earth would they put the sign in the side yard where no one can see it???” So I drove around and that’s when I realized… Historical Society that you forgot my sign or some kid stole it out of our yard so if you could replace it ASAP that would be great.

In the event that I in fact did not place AGAIN this year, well…. That’s fine, but expect to see the following throughout the next year…

Maybe you would like Santa in a boat….



No? Well there is always this carousel that MOVES!!!....






How about a leg lamp? Pun intended….




Christmas in July?






Oh yes and if we are going to go through all the trouble to make your Historical neighborhood decorative why stop with Christmas…

We are going to celebrate Easter….






OH and Jack DOES turn the big 1 this year… I know he would just love this.







I do suppose I can let this year go, but consider this your warning. I am not afraid to have a tacky Christmas. So to you Mr. or Mrs. Historical Society I say

BAH HUMBUG!!!!

















1 comment:

Whitney said...

What do you mean "Tacky" ?! We own all of those decorations! Kidding... I've got one that you left off, my brother-in-law, who's a big Nascar fan, has an inflatable Tony Stewart car that he puts in his yard at christmas. Now that's what I call real nice.