Garden of Words

Miss Kringle, Ready for Her Close-Up

 

Thea spent the afternoon at her grandmother's house today, where she developed an affection for early 19th Century Russian hats. Or Santa hats, depending on the angle of the camera.

Thea's Cold Snap

 

When we woke up this morning to a furnace on the fail -- a cold, winter morning with a foot of snow on the ground outside -- Thea didn't miss a beat. Phase One involved a hat, leggings, sweater, three blankets, two stuffed animals and an episode of Sesame Street.

Phase Two was a bit more elaborate and style conscious with multiple hats, scarves and gloves. From several members of the household.

(The furnace was back in service by mid-afternoon. I was told that having the furnace checked once a decade didn't cut it. The rule of thumb is once a year.)

 

Thea's Holiday Light Tours

 

face-to-face with an illuminated reindeer

It started with a simple, all expenses paid visit to the Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden's insane holiday illumination. It won't end until everyone in Richmond has removed their yard decorations and brightly colored garlands.

Thea is obsessed with the lights.

 

reflection in a gigantic Jefferson Hotel ornament

We took her to Lewis Ginter the weekend after Thanksgiving, and have spent every evening since placating her with a drive around the block, or to see the illuminated deer at Target, or the The Jefferson for a glimpse of the gigantic Nutcracker in the lobby, or the grandly lit exterior of the Omni. We even took her back to Lewis Ginter, hoping to break the cycle.

 

reflection in lights (family/self-portrait by Nikole)

No luck.

 

Evening beginning to decorate our own house hasn't removed the ability for Thea to go ga-ga for someone else's decorations. She likes simple white lights on trees, the Old School colored bulbs strung from gutters, even the big inflatable snow man domes.

Even a chance visit Kmart took her breath away.

 

She's an equal opportunity tacky lights kind of gal.

Christmas, Circa 1970

 

This is how we rolled back in the pre-Disco era. Naughty, nice. Happy, hysterical. Get in line, get your picture, shut your yap.

I'm the screaming one being shoved into Santa's face. The original Santa Claus, that is.