I recently commented on a blog friend’s post about my dislike of the ever popular photo Christmas card. After voicing my opinion, I was asked “Are you… Scrooge?” To which I answer most emphatically… no!
But for me… the joy of the annual Christmas card exchange is knowing that someone far away, someone I may not have seen for 15 years, someone I don’t communicate with on a regular basis, took the time to sit down and think of me. To actually pick up a pen and jot down a message of holiday cheer…. in good old fashioned ink. In the virtual, digital, and (don’t get me wrong I love my tech) impersonal world in which we live? That still means something.
So when I get cards like this –
.
.
They leave me cold. Want to include a family photo in your card? Great, I’d love to see you and your hoard of grandchildren. But not like this –
.
.
Where I have absolutely no idea who’s who or from which loins they sprung.
Nope. You have to do more than format some photos online and stick it in an envelope with no handwritten signature or bon mots for me to feel that merry tingle.
.
.
Old fashioned? Probably. But then I still send handwritten thank you notes like my momma taught me.
And if I’m the only one who feels this way? So be it. You do you, I’ll do me. My cards and envelopes always have been… and always will be… hand written. And if you’re lucky enough to make the cut on my ever dwindling Christmas card list (deadbeats who haven’t reciprocated in 5 years are history) you won’t get a typewritten letter detailing the mind numbing minutia of my life in the past year. (Do not get me started on those! I neither need, nor want to know the results of your step son’s colonoscopy or how great aunt Edna is dealing with those pesky cysts.) But you will get a few words from someone who thought enough of you to take the time to put pen to paper.
.
*Disclaimer – the post to which I refer is this one by Swinged Cat.
And while my dislike of photo cards stands, I’d like to give him a shout out for at least going the extra mile and doing something humorous.
We were invited to a few get togethers last weekend, but passed on all of them. I’m afraid I just don’t trust people well enough to gather in groups yet.
So I took a picture of my new, appropriately patriotic flowering plant….
And we stayed home to mow the lawn instead.
Yard work is an all day event ’round here, but it’s quite satisfying.
The daylilies are popping…. and when we were through mowing and whacking and trimming we fired up the grill.
And had an adult beverage while the husband stared, still enraptured by his new toy and it’s viewing window.
( Latest Seagram’s flavor review: Wild Berries – meh. Won’t be buying that one again.)
After some truly marvelous steaks, husband raked grass clumps…. and while I was cleaning up the kitchen?
I looked out the window….. and took a picture through the screen which looks like a bad acid trip.
( Or so I’ve been told. I have no personal experience. No. Not me. Uh uh. )
But yes.
That cute little bugger was at it again.
Eating one of the flowers he’s not supposed to like to eat.
It was finally dark enough to check out the lights we’d paid a small fortune to see at Busch Gardens.
Have you ever stood in a freezing cold circle of strangers and stared at a tree?
We did.
And I felt like a Who.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas as much as the next person.
But Christmas in Busch Gardens? Loud and crowded, filled with screaming, unruly, sugared up children as well as their rude, cell phone addicted parents…. and utterly devoid of the old world charm they were attempting to replicate?
No.
But we smiled… and enjoyed the company of those we love.
If not the techno extravaganza.
I read there were 10 million lights in Christmas Town…. and I believe it.
If it stood still? They lit it.
Admittedly there were some pretty spots.
But the crowds pushed you along at a pace not conducive to enjoying them.
There were numerous theaters you could enter and view a show…. for a large price.
But we did stumble on this extremely blue one for free.
Naturally there was no place left to sit…
So we stood off to the side and listened for a while.
Until our teeth were chattering again.
Thank God for the warm up stations.
At least they got that right.
This was an impressive section of lights.
Although I was constantly getting bumped into when I stopped and attempted to focus a shot.
That tree at the end?
Shone like the sun.
It was so damn bright….. I think my retinas actually screamed.
In case I forgot to mention it….. trying to stay together and find your way around this place in the dark amidst the crowds of screaming children and oblivious parents? A total nightmare. We had no idea where we were half the time and by the time we decided to head back to the parking lot?
We couldn’t find a map, no less the exit. And I think they plan it that way. We even went into the stores and asked the staff how to get out …. but they looked at us like the proverbial deer in headlights.
Maybe they never get out…
I don’t know.
Asking the plastic polar bears seemed like a waste of time.
So we kept walking.
Took a right past the ice castle…. then a left…. then a right… and another left…. and backed up… and crossed a bridge…. and turned around….. and found ourselves back at the damned ice castle.
We walked and walked.
And shivered and chattered and froze.
We also blessed the day man discovered fire.
But then we finally saw something familiar.
And I was never so happy to see a fake European village square in my life.
Joy to the World my *ss.
I was only joyful when we found the exit, waited on yet another long line for the shuttle, rode the sardine can to the parking lot with 50 tired, cranky children and worn out adults and got into our car.
Christmas Town at Busch Gardens Williamsburg?
Bah humbug.
Overpriced and over rated.
Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
