It’s done. The insane December 1st move is done! To say my life has been consumed by boxes, recycling, trashing and donating is the least of it. Now I’m on the other end of unpacking everything so
unceremoniously carefully boxed up and discovering that about a third of what we moved should have only made it as far as the curb. What is it with getting rid of junk? Why do we hang onto old art sets with dried up paint, candlesticks that have never been used, magazines with that one recipe in it that you can’t find the time to tear out so you keep the whole, useless mag (or 40 of them)? It’s been a great exercise in purging. I’m trying to get lean. Our Christmas decor so far is minimalist – mainly because there’s nowhere to put a tree just yet:
However mixed in with the minimalist, my weird penchant for hoarding ridiculous stuff creeps back in with these:
Do I have an electric cord for these? No. Have I kept them with me since we had them on our family tree over 20 years ago? Yes. Do they work? Hell if I know. I just can’t seem to let these suckers go. I clearly remember being fascinated by them as a child. I mean lit-up liquid forming bubbles as it heats, that then slide lazily up and down in a tube on a beloved Christmas tree? No wonder I would barf with excitement every Christmas morning.
I may barf again this Christmas. My parents were down seeing the new house and the bubble-lites were out, because they’re eternally around somewhere until I find the perfect place to store them for 10 years, and my Mom says to my Dad: “John, don’t we have a cord for those in our basement?” My jaw dropped. Of course, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Why wouldn’t my parents have a 20-year-old cord just hanging around in their basement for bubble-lites that they haven’t been in possession of for the same amount of time?
I feel like Christmas may come early this year. I’m trying to wait patiently for confirmation of the cord’s existence. Even The Man can’t dampen my spirits by insisting that these lights are not going on the tree (“what a bloody fire hazard” says the Grinch) but rather in the fireplace. Not while it’s on – at least I think we agree on that.
Don’t worry readers, I will absolutely post a picture of the lights in action should my functioning bubble-lite dream come true. Stay tuned. This hoar may pay off.