Yesterday Garth and I put up a few Christmas lights around our house. We all know how beautiful Dad's yard was for so many years at Christmas time, but yesterday reminded me of something in particular. We forgot to check the first string of lights before we put it up. When that particular string was half-way up, we hurried and plugged it in to see if it was working. We found that only half of them worked, so we took it down and checked the next string of lights. They worked, but with the first sting not working, we didn't have enough of that particular kind of light to put across the front of the house. So we checked out the other strings to see if there was enough. Some were all working, but a few had half of the string not working. Those were immediately gathered up and thrown away. We decided we would not spend the hours necessary to find that one particular bulb that wasn't working. My memory: how many hours did Dad slave over his lights? I remember finding him out in the wood shop checking each individual light to find that "special one" that didn't work. He would cuss them, he dreaded them, but he kept on checking them. I think it was more the challenge of finding it that kept him going. He wasn't going to let that string of lights beat him. He also wasn't going to waste a penny by throwing them away. Some of his lights because the "replacement string". He saved them to us the bulbs in other strings. No wonder the lights were such a chore for him. Even though he complained about the lights and the time to put them up, he enjoyed his yard at Christmas time.
Sometimes I feel I am becoming my father when I think about the energy to put up that tree, just to have to take it down again in a few weeks. But we do it because I want the Christmas spirit in our home. So here I go, get showered, dressed for the morning (church isn't until 1:00) and start getting that Christmas tree up. I think that is a fitting activity for a Sunday morning.
Oh, we did get a few lights up on the house. Finally found enough lights that worked. But many ended up in the garbage can.
3 comments:
Growing up, going past Grandpa's lights were always my favorite part of christmas. Driving around his house and down around the park, he always had his house so "magical" then having his little "people" out on the porch sawing and waving. People would drive past his house because he had SOO many lights. I remember he even made his own little tool to put his lights on his huge pine tree out front.
Nicky - it wasn't a "little tool" - it was a long tool.
sooooorrrrry Julie! :) Grandpa made his own TOOL
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