Pondering the world

the price of creating a winter wonderland

Our first Christmas at the B&B, I had visions of creating a fairyland of lights and Christmas decorations in our yard, where people would drive by and walk by just to see them. That dream lasted a very short time, only for as long as it took to calculate the cost of purchasing everything, the additional cost of electricity, the time involved in setting up and taking down every year, and the number of boxes and amount of storage required.

I have a friend who really gets into decorating for every holiday, but especially for Christmas. A few years ago, she confessed to me that she has 30 boxes of just Christmas decorations. And that doesn't include all of those big light-up Santas, wicker reindeer figures, rooftop snowmen, etc., that don't fit in boxes. I can't even imagine how much space that takes. When I had a garage, I actually liked parking my car in it.

We don't really get that much winter in Albuquerque, so that just leaves the wondering part. I wonder where I can drive to see someone else's house all lit up?

 

a chorus of Chihuahuas

You know about the names of groups of animals, right?  For instance, it's a colony of ants, a troop of baboons, a herd of bison, a clutch of chicks... I have a new one as the result of a neighborhood walk last week.

It was in an older neighborhood, rather tired and sad-looking with lots of padlocked driveway gates, "no trespassing" signs and many, many dogs. In fact, the walking guide I was using very definitely said "be aware of lots of dogs on this street!"

As we were approaching one house, the buzzing noise began, sounding like a swarm of angry bees. It morphed into half a dozen furry little bodies hurtling toward us, growling and yipping as loudly as possible just inside the fence. They tracked our progress along the street, protecting their turf and chasing those big, bad strangers away--all except for one puppy who was making off in the opposite direction with a red knitted hat. I wondered what happened to the person who had been wearing it.

The noise proving the group was doing its job continued until we were out of sight down the street, and a new term was born:  a "chorus" of Chihuahuas.