Next the camera and the action.

It is a thing, a small thing, but still a thing, each year. My honey wants to get some more lights and perhaps something that looks like it has escaped the Macy's day parade. Maybe a few things that bob and weave. Perhaps...

When it comes to Christmas lights, I'm a purist. The white lights on the honeysuckle next to the door, the railing and the daphne all twinkle softly. The blue lights on the skeleton of the laceleaf maple are my concession. Others tell me that colored lights are an important part of the holiday. I don't see it. perhaps I am just so hungry for light on the short days of winter that the white light appeals to some inner need. My ancestors were vikings. Danes who would escape to warmer climes when the days were just a few short hours. I'm told they weren't especially good house guests, stealing the towels and such. Having had the bloodlines somewhat diluted I was taught to wash dishes and make my own bed. Improvement? I guess it depends which side of it you're on. I can always use more towels.