It is a mere day until the arrival of the much-anticipated Christmas. It is full of light and love and everything else in the world that makes the holiday so positively delightful. This was the scene in my living room a few moments ago.
Quiet fills the living room. The only sound is that of my brother's Wii game's noises and, in the background, of my fingers pitter-pattering over the keys of my laptop.
I lift my eyes from the screen and gaze outside at the festive lights, some blinking while others smile serenely from their stapled position on the edge of the roof. Most of the lights are red and green - the ones along the gutters, the ones blinking hysterically as they trail across the vine-infested archway by the garden, and the ones wrapped snugly around our short, plump Christmas tree.
Though I must admit, plenty of them are of other sorts of colours. There are cold blue ones flumped over the ground by the garden (a makeshift extension cord that Mum made to attach the archway ones to the rooftop ones). There are also deep blue and white lights snaking up around the door frame, with icy silver garland wrapped happily about them. And on top of all of that, there are warm, cozy white ones twined in amongst the red and green on the Christmas tree.
But the lights aren't the only things that boast Christmas colours. Outside, Mum and I have rammed spindly branches into pots, tipped them off with a thick layer of fake frost, and hung blue and silver ornaments on them. And there's that shrub-like tree in the garden that has enormous blue and silver balls that are somehow wedged into its tightly-growing branches. There's that baby cedar, too, that's as equally droopy and sparse as the other one is unbowed and full. Its limp limbs are adorned with small red balls, and overall, it has a friendly Dr. Seuss's How the Grinch Stole Christmas air to it.
You've probably already guessed that if outside our household is blanketed with Christmas love that the inside would be as well. If you guessed so, you are quite correct. We have a twinkling poinsettia by the doorway, two short, joyous Christmas trees crammed full of ornaments in two of the rooms, and a rather fat tree in the living room whose limbs stretch out from its plump center, as if hoping to give one of its sprightly bear hugs to an unexpectant passerby. On the mantle of the fireplace, a snow-kissed, sweet village rests, giving off a soft holiday glow. And underneath the village, our stockings hang, all six of them with their mismatched patterns from 2010 Olympics spandex-infusion to 1970's handknitted wool. (Well, that's where they used to hang, but they absolutely refuse to stay put and are repeatedly found splayed across the fireside rocks). And lest us forget the charming plastic snowflakes plastered across the windows throughout the house, and the holly-stuffed, cedar-stuffed, green and red-stuffed centerpieces. And finally, on Christmas day, we will find means of appreciating this jovial environment by grooming and dressing ourselves to match it equally. Our nails are painted festively, the dog is wearing Santa 'janglers' on her paws, and we are clad in bell-coated elf hats and fluffy, white-trimmed Claus caps.
However, there's so much more to Christmas than these wondrous visual features. Fill out the rest for yourself, because you know all of its dazzling, sparkling, dancing treasures there. And now I shall steal a line from The Night Before Christmas and give you this last Christmas wish: "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
