THRILL OF YOUR LIFE

Perhaps there are things that should not transcend cultures....

Un themed love

Perhaps Christmas just isn't for people like me. I mean, I enjoy ...the finer things in life. I enjoy...well let's get straight to the point. I enjoy when things are decorated nicely. Coordinating colors, themes. You know, nice stuff. Yet Christmas comes and there this barrage of colors that are all so loud, it's like they're yelling at me. None of them get along, and, if you live in my house, none of them are from the same decade. Ornaments from years past seem to make it to our tree each year, and each year I contemplate breaking them by "accident" so we can get new ones. I've been putting up nicknacks on our windowsills and mantels. My mom calls them decorations. Again, it feels like a collage of stuff gathered from all ends of the earth. Different things I made in grade school are on the hearth hanging out with any random Christmas oriented gifts we've collected in years past. I suppose it's something about sentimental value. I'm putting up these decorations, few of which i like and something starts to happen as I look around, and it looks different than before. Tackier, yes, but more than that. It feels kinda warm. Like love had spilled over into those crafts, and thought had spilled over into those gifts. I try to shake the sentimental moment-- But it stayed. I kind still feel it now, as I look around at mismatched care and un-themed love. It feels kinda like warm, and kinda like home. Maybe, just maybe Christmas is for people like me after all.