otherwise entitled: I'll be home for Christmas...
I walk into my house today, past the newly decorated mantle and windows, the glowing fireplace, the lovely music playing and into the kitchen where I am startled. By 'my house' I mean the one I grew up in, so actually my parent's house, but still very much my house. And, as every person who still carries around with them some vestiges of their own childhood, I like to come home at Christmas time.
My mom has a few evergreen trees a couple of feet high that she puts up in small groupings around the house every year. Not real ones, mind you, the fake ones, but nice fake ones. I guess she's not quite done decorating because in the kitchen in a corner by the table are what looks like a rather stiff family, standing vertically, in black body bags. Now, I'm supposing that they really are those fake trees, and I'd love to show you what they look like because I think you would agree with me- it's a little creepy. They look a tad too convincing for me to go over and actually find out if they are real or not...and this leads me to one conclusion.
I really need to start visually documenting the small amusements of my life.