Our house is lit, yo.
And no, your eyes do not deceive you: that is a flamingo wearing a Santa hat, front and center.
We decorated the yard ourselves but hired a guy to install the lights around the eaves. It wasn’t cheap, and in the end, they eschewed tall ladders and simply climbed onto the roof to do the work. Pretty smart, actually. Our roof isn’t very steeply pitched and is easy to access from the backyard, so I’ll probably just do that myself next year.
Easy to say now, I know. I’m very brave when I’m not 20′ feet in the air staring down at a cement driveway! But I think it’s doable (I used to climb onto the roof of my townhouse in Washington every year), and it’s a lot cheaper than the $180 we paid. At least that includes uninstallation in January.
The price doesn’t matter, though. This is what I envisioned our house looking like last winter!
In preparation for Thanksgiving, we are brining our turkey tonight. Coincidentally, on this exact date 10 years ago, I had my hands full contending with hungry kids, a fancy meal, and an exploding turkey. That incident set the stage for a series of bad-luck holidays involving broken hearts, broken gall bladders, broken kidneys, a broken pancreas, and—most recently—a broken sewer line. For a while there, I dreaded the holidays because they brought me pain, either emotional, physical, or financial. This is one reason why I was so reluctant to climb up that ladder myself; bad things often happen to me in November and December. Fortunately, there’s no imminent health risk in 2020, amirite?!
Fortunately, my holidays usually alternate between good and bad, and Biden’s landslide election has me confident this year will be one of the better ones.
Still not sure if I’m writing every day this month…