Colorful Christmas

I grew up in a house that sat on a corner, surrounded by a white picket fence.  Seriously.  Every Christmas we would string a line of white lights along it's entire length, that you could see as soon as you turned onto our street. It was so Christmasey, so pretty.

I'm not big on decorating, but I wish I were, especially at Christmas.  The front of our house is fairly plain, we have no columns around the door, no front porch or railings.  We don't have any trees on the lawn to string lights on, and our bushes are a mish-mash of various sizes.  So for a craftily challenged person like myself, I feel limited.

I think white lights look so nice against the snow, but Mike isn't a fan.  When we were first married, he  let me have a tree decorated in silver and white glass balls and white lights.  That lasted exactly one year, it's been multicolored lights ever since.

But I don't mind, as long as we have one huge tree,

and one baby tree.

Luke switched out his normal glasses for the spy goggle variety.

Mike scored a bunch of little trees that light up, which, if we ever get snow, will no longer be seen. 

 Plus, Frank won't cross through them to come in the house.  Maybe he thinks it's a wall of fire.

Who needs an Elf on the Shelf when Harold the Elf (circa 1972) 

has kept the peace the past few years.

I think the festive season has officially started. 

CHEERS!