I used to watch the Twylight Zone when I was a kid and it confused and frightened me. Same thing with The Outer Limits. Theoretically, I enjoy both shows, but they work my nerves and I don't really enjoy them but I do like the twisted-ending views contained within them.
Friday night I picked up my boys for the weekend. It's a mid-entry style house with a living room at the top of the entry steps. A tall Christmas tree fills the room now and decorations abound.
Nearly all of them were mine.
It felt like walking into a Twylight Zone alternate universe. I stared at that tree, seeing ornaments I bought for my boys, one apiece each year. The "12 days of Christmas" set I'd had since the original wedding nearly twenty years ago. Ornaments from every year of the marriage, except for the one my boys brought to me last year as it was covered in kittens and they knew it was mine. A set of coffee mugs on a table nearby, handles shaped like elves, spelling the word "Noel."
Philip was excited because he had found, while they were pulling out these relics, his "shakey Santa" that I'd bought him years ago. Shakey Santa shakes (duh) and has a robust, jolly laugh when you hit him. Phil loved it and would spend hours smacking it on the head and laughing along with it until you had to laugh, too.
The mugs caught my eye, though, because they were prominently displayed like a treasured family heirloom. I got them the year Dave was a company commander and as his wife, it was my duty to host the company's party. I ordered all the toys and door prizes from Oriental Trading Company and Lillian Vernon, and the mugs were some sort of bonus offered since we spent so much with them. I never particularly cared for them, but they were free and festive. And there they were! The centerpiece of a table beside a tree covered with my own Christmas Past.
I have a footlocker that held some of the mementos from those same years. It holds my meager collection of porcelain and resin Santa figures, my collection of Christmas plates, candlesticks and crystal ornaments I won when I sold Princess House. I've added a lot of decorations since the divorce and now my holiday holdings don't even fit neatly into it any longer and are in little boxes tucked beneath the stairs.
Seeing all the old things in a new setting was like going to your mom's place and seeing how she's kept that cheesy melamine plate you made for her when you were in fourth grade (which my mom did have and sent home with me this year; it's in my bedroom now). Nostalgic, maybe? But also a bit weird, knowing how I spent so much time picking out all those ornaments each year to reflect something that had happened in my family and now seeing these tokens in another context.
We put up Rob's computer hutch this weekend. He groused because I wouldn't let him put the printer on the very top of it. "It's a desk!" he cried. "It's in the living room! That hutch top is only for decorative items!" I cried, flailing. "You can see little red arrows shooting WAY down in my room indicator!" I hollered, sending him and the boys hooting as it's an indicator that Mom's been spending WAY too much time playing Sims.
Friday night I picked up my boys for the weekend. It's a mid-entry style house with a living room at the top of the entry steps. A tall Christmas tree fills the room now and decorations abound.
Nearly all of them were mine.
It felt like walking into a Twylight Zone alternate universe. I stared at that tree, seeing ornaments I bought for my boys, one apiece each year. The "12 days of Christmas" set I'd had since the original wedding nearly twenty years ago. Ornaments from every year of the marriage, except for the one my boys brought to me last year as it was covered in kittens and they knew it was mine. A set of coffee mugs on a table nearby, handles shaped like elves, spelling the word "Noel."
Philip was excited because he had found, while they were pulling out these relics, his "shakey Santa" that I'd bought him years ago. Shakey Santa shakes (duh) and has a robust, jolly laugh when you hit him. Phil loved it and would spend hours smacking it on the head and laughing along with it until you had to laugh, too.
The mugs caught my eye, though, because they were prominently displayed like a treasured family heirloom. I got them the year Dave was a company commander and as his wife, it was my duty to host the company's party. I ordered all the toys and door prizes from Oriental Trading Company and Lillian Vernon, and the mugs were some sort of bonus offered since we spent so much with them. I never particularly cared for them, but they were free and festive. And there they were! The centerpiece of a table beside a tree covered with my own Christmas Past.
I have a footlocker that held some of the mementos from those same years. It holds my meager collection of porcelain and resin Santa figures, my collection of Christmas plates, candlesticks and crystal ornaments I won when I sold Princess House. I've added a lot of decorations since the divorce and now my holiday holdings don't even fit neatly into it any longer and are in little boxes tucked beneath the stairs.
Seeing all the old things in a new setting was like going to your mom's place and seeing how she's kept that cheesy melamine plate you made for her when you were in fourth grade (which my mom did have and sent home with me this year; it's in my bedroom now). Nostalgic, maybe? But also a bit weird, knowing how I spent so much time picking out all those ornaments each year to reflect something that had happened in my family and now seeing these tokens in another context.
We put up Rob's computer hutch this weekend. He groused because I wouldn't let him put the printer on the very top of it. "It's a desk!" he cried. "It's in the living room! That hutch top is only for decorative items!" I cried, flailing. "You can see little red arrows shooting WAY down in my room indicator!" I hollered, sending him and the boys hooting as it's an indicator that Mom's been spending WAY too much time playing Sims.
posted by Owl Chick at 12/03/2001 10:15:00 AM
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