First, the winner from my last post is … anne! You have won a copy of CHICKEN SOUP FOR THE SOUL: THE DATING GAME, which includes a short story about how Arizona and I met. CONGRATS!
Please email me at drjsandersen AT yahoo.com with your snail mail addy, and I’ll get it out to you.
(And now, on to the blog!)
This weekend, Arizona and I put up our silly fake tree and festooned it with all the required stuff. The tree, lights, tinsel, 50 cat-proof blue-and-silver balls and the sparkly bow for the top were all bought last year, when I decided to celebrate being in our own home by committing Tree for the first time in many years. But along with these Wally-world specials (and a couple of more recent gift ornaments) are the Old Favorites.
You know the ones—I’ve bet you’ve got some Old Favorite decorations of your own, whatever the holiday. They’re the ones I’ve kept with me through five moves, damp basement storage and a serious downsizing, when the ‘Jess Xmas’ collection went from three big boxes to a single lean Tupperware.
There’s Christmas Snoopy, a porcelain figure that’s been part of the holiday for as long as I can remember. There are the rocking horses—a collection begun when model horses were as close as I got to equine-kind and continued through the years. There are a half dozen Christmas at the White House ornaments from the late 80s and early 90s, given to me by my aunt (a Very Cool Lady who among other things was one of the first women in the Secret Service).
And then there’s Egg Santa.
Or, rather, there was Egg Santa.
I made him back in kindergarten, when us five-year-olds were sent home with instructions to bring in a blown-out egg the next day. So in I toddled with a blown-out brown egg (because Brown Eggs are Local Eggs and Local Eggs are Fresh!!) protected with a toilet paper nest inside a Thermos. And later that day I returned home with that egg wearing a glued-on hat, construction paper eyes, and a fluffy white beard. And from then on, he and Snoopy were best buddies.
Over the years, Egg Santa’s beard got longer (as the polyfill wore down, not because of some existential hair growth). Eventually, one eye loosened up, hung skewed for a couple of years (turning him into Seriously Creepy Egg Santa), and eventually fell off (enter One-Eyed Egg Santa). And then, finally, I opened the ‘Jess Xmas’ boxes one holiday season to discover that sometime during the year, poor Egg Santa’s cranium had collapsed. So, no more Egg Santa. But I remember him fondly, and maybe one of these days I’ll make another.
(Apropos of nothing, autocorrect inexplicably keeps insisting that I mean ‘Egg Satan’ … which has me stifling the urge to make one of those, too. Because I’m naughty like that.)
But, with or without Egg Santa, the tree is up, the cats are leaving it alone, and I’m enjoying the pretty sparkle in the corner of the room … the one that says I’m home, and Arizona and I are building a new set of traditions.
So tell me about your Old Favorites. Do you have an Egg Santa? An Egg Satan? (If so, post a picture!) Which decorations, Christmas or otherwise, have been with you over the decades and through a bunch of moves?