Holiday Season

What besides the red roses expresses your true feelings about a person? Through of my adult life and most likely my early adult too I’ve known the meaning of the Rose. For the most part I’m what you call a feeling sharing dofus. With gifts I’m even worst. Some kind of phobia about giving and receiving of gifts. Celebrations scare the hell out of me. A birthday party for me with a crowd? Absolutely no way. But flowers I understand. This is one situation in giving a gift that brings me joy and comfort. When it comes to Valentines Day this year I know where to turn with help in this department.

Darn close to 7 hours of studies - time for a mental break. Val bought an incredible 7.5 foot tree. It glows in our living room like the sparkle in my grandson’s eyes. Seriously… I’ve become quite the romantic this year. Kind of odd but I’m enjoying being sentimental.

As she puts yet another dozen ornaments on the tree, Val turns and tell me someone must say, “You know, I think this is the prettiest tree yet. ” It’s a tradition, a Heinold tradition from my Dad. Each year is better than the last. Sure enough, Ruth came into the room a few minutes later. Looked at the tree, told Val it was just lovely. Then, “You know, this is the prettiest tree I’ve ever seen.”

I looked over at Val who smiled. We both said, “Yes, this year it is the best.”

The funniest and best part of our holiday decor is the 3 foot high giant plastic lighted Santa Claus. It’s not 3-D, it’s a wall ornament. It’s tacky… wonderful… manufactured just as plastic began hitting its stride in the early 19690s. Val’s been lugging it around since 1972 but it’s been in her family since 1963. Her Dad put one of these atrocious Santas on each side of their chimney one year. Two of them, back to back so it would be a whole Santa. It was his joke. She remembers him telling her, “Your sister will be here in a few days. She’s getting a ride home from Fayetteville — apparently with the Tri-Delt president or somesuch sorority business. High class… big honor to ride with such a person or some other bit of canal water. I thought I’d decorate with style just for her. Show that Tri Delta bunch we’re high class too.” Val says he must have laughed for a good five minutes after he said that. Then he put a sign on the front window which said, “We bought symphony orchestra cookies.”

That’s Val’s Christmas story for today. Every evening, she and Ruth tell each other a funny good Christmas holiday story. I’ll give you one of Ruth’s soon. She’s got some great ones from the 1920s.

Across the street, we watch a couple of weekend warriors work to rehabilitate a house. The house is of a rather pedestrian design (to borrow a phrase from Val) meaning it is simple, a working-man’s house. Two rooms upstairs, two rooms down with a shotgun hall on the left hand side. Our former neighbor, Jasper, lived there his entire life and had inherited the house from the aunt who raised him when his parents were killed in a tragic train wreck in Kentucky in 1932. Jasper married a few years ago, moved into his new wife’s house. He decided to sell the house about six months ago, put a price of $93,000 on it and sold it in two days. Suffice it to say, he made out like a bandit.

The rehab couple drives 4 or 5 hours twice a month from the farthest border of Virginia — almost in West Virginia. They want to retire here About six weeks ago, the wife-half of the duo gave Val the “Hey” sign and the two women chatted for a moment. “It sure is hot,” warrior wife commented, “I thought it would be chilly in the evenings by now.”

“Oh, we’ll have a temperature drop now and then, but we’ll be barefoot at Thanksgiving,” I heard Val reply.

The next day as the couple drove away, wife-warrior rolled down the window of their 4×4 king cab pickup to tell Val, “We’re coming back in two weeks with some friends and we’re bringing our boat! See you then!”

Sure enough, two weeks later… the couple arrives, huge boat in tow, friends in close pursuit. Understand, please, our houses are directly across the street from each other. The view of Jasper’s house is ubiquitous, unavoidable, as is the hearing the conversation of anyone in the yard or house as sound travels up just as it is amplified across water. It’s about 40 degrees and overcast. The house has no electricity and running water exists outside, not inside. Warrior couple has completely gutted the home. (And they gave Val the old kitchen sink! Cast iron… it’s on the back porch where it will remain because it’s too heavy to even push out of the way…)

Back to story. The couple and their friends stand in yard, donning coats and scarves. Val comes around corner of yard and they “Hey” to her. She heys back. “Thought the weather was going to stay warm,” warrior wife complains.

“Two months of the year, the weather sucks here. It’s just not a steady two months it varies from day to day. We’ll be barefoot on Thanksgiving.” Val waves and walks back into the house.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I looked out the kitchen window and saw my wife throwing the ball for the dogs in the backyard yesterday (Thanksgiving) afternoon.

She was, in true raised-in-Arkansas fashion, barefoot.

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it is pretty much a done deal when it comes to flameless candles — battery operated gems which are safe with grandsons, their 90 - year - old great grandmother, our two Jack Russell terriers, a large and clumsy (over-weight) Scotty, and more. Safety is a big deal in our house. So is economy, beauty, and style. Whatever the occasion, flameless candles will brighten up a room. Cheer up a gloomy soul, and provide safe, economical beautiful light. I’m thrilled with the way these candles look and I’m sure you will be too — Visit flamelesscandles.net today.