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Monday, December 10, 2007

Christmas Time is Here



















For the last week I've been developing a serious problem with my neighbours. Everytime the Lady and I come back from an outing, I bemoan the fact that none of our neighbours seem interested in putting up Christmas lights, and those that do put them up limit their displays to one batch of lights on a pitiful looking tree in their front yard. Whither the inflatable Santas? Our upstairs housemates told us someone around the corner had an actual stuffed deer they mounted on their roof! Where is he? I want the Griswold house, dammit!

And I think of home, and my father climbing his rickety ladder, in a pair of jeans and that blue plaid flannel jacket he always wears for winter outdoor jobs, the same one I used to wear when I was in high school and it was the style, despit it being too small for me. And I think of him stretching to pin the lights along the eavestrough, and I wonder who he's doing it for, since I'm not there, and my mom couldn't care less, and the thought of him under a cold and grey Amherstburg sky hanging his tasteful display of lights alone almost crushes me to tears, because I was too self absorbed to help him when I was still at home, and he wouldn't have accepted even if I'd offered, because that's just the kind of man my father is, and I find myself counting the days until I get home for Christmas, even if it's only for a few days. Because as trite as it sounds, once you reach a certain age, Windsor, you really can't keep taking things for granted the way you used to.

Working 12-8 today. News will come this evening, whenever I'm bored with wrestling.

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