I am a colored lights sort of girl.
Sure, the tree inside is all twinkly white, but outside? Joy explodes in color. We started it in protest to the all the stodgy neighborhood rules we have here in the burbs. Seems like my sweet neighbors think that colored lights reflect a lower state of mind. They have their whites all evenly spaced and proportionately distributed, strung over bushes and carefully manicured trees the day after Thanksgiving. Spotlights are strategically placed to highlight the wreath on the door, laden with red berries and gold balls. I must admit, I feel a sense of calm when I come upon these lights at night.
But mine? A sudden burst of joy.
My life is not neat. And neither is my Christmas.
But it is jam-packed with messy joy.
A Merry, colorful, joy-filled Christmas to you all!