Light It Up

Ohhhh, it's so cold and windy here. It's time to dig out the winter coats and jackets. I'm really partial to my leather jacket and wear it more than any of my others. It seems awfully early in the season, but I do believe I'll be wearing it tomorrow.

The window guys finished up today, and everything looks terrific. (We won't talk about the dreadful mess one of them left in my bathroom. Suffice it to say it didn't please me to come home from work and have to immediately clean up the toilet after some strange man.) It's just too bad that it's so cold I can't open my windows -- which I can now do so effortlessly. Dang!

The dog seems to be stalking me. Again. A couple of times this afternoon I've been sitting in my desk chair or lying on the sofa when I hear this hissing noise. I look down, and there she is -- just sitting there, staring at me. And hissing. I don't know what she wants. Something, obviously, that she thinks I've deprived her of.

The across-the-street neighbors started on their Christmas display Saturday. Actually, their numbers have been reduced to one aging lady. But never fear, her sons and grandchildren show up religiously to help get the extravaganza set up. And what might that be, you ask? It's -- LIGHTS. Thousands of them. Hanging off the house, draped in the trees, wrapped around the fence and gates -- and illuminating the Christmas trees, Nativity scene, reindeer, elves, snowmen, angels, big toy soldiers, humongous candy canes, and God knows what else in the yard. (There's something new added every year.) And let us not forget the huge Santa with sleigh and reindeer on the roof. They will work on assembling all this stuff from now until Thanksgiving. They flip the switch on Thanksgiving night, and will light up the neighborhood (and create traffic jams) every night from then until New Year's Eve. I've gotten used to it over the years. I simply put up velvet "blackout" curtains behind my regular curtains and shutters. Otherwise, you could sit in my living room with the lights out at midnight and still be able to read. I'll be sure and snap a photograph of our annual neighborhood Winter Wonderland so you all can see. Some of the neighbors curse all the hubbub and call it tacky and garish. And, of course, it is. I kind of like it, though. I guess it's grown on me.

I'll tell you what's tacky and garish. You know that little icon up in the top right-hand corner that says "Next Blog"? Sometimes, I'll scroll through some of them. Some of them are very interesting and fun; in fact, that's how I've met some of you. But some of them -- hoochie-mama! I'm no prude, but I really don't get off on seeing peoples' goods splayed wide open. I'm not impressed by vulgar terms for said goods and what such, er, assets can be used for, either -- and I certainly don't want to see them in action. Yuck.