Given that I've so thoroughly outed myself as a grown woman who plays with dolls, it probably won't come as a shock that where Christmas is concerned, I'm a 5'9 six-year-old. Christmas lights are one of my very favourite things on earth, and my neighbourhood is all a-twinkle. In the bougier parts of town where some of my friends live, the lights are lovely but decidedly tasteful. Well down here in the PSC, people don't mess around with subtlety or lightness of touch. So much the better, I say; there's no tree too tacky, no house too gaudy. I want my lights in all the colours of the rainbow and bright, brighter, brightest! Thank you, people of the PSC, for giving me a Griswald Christmas. Tonight Mr. L and I went for a chilly but cheerful walk around the neighbourhood after our swim at the local community centre; come see what we saw...
I don't know if it's a Québec thing, but before moving here, I'd never seen these very funny inflated Christmas creatures. Some of them even play music:
Yes indeed, that's Santa in a helicopter up there in the upper left-hand corner. But that's also him in his more traditional sleigh in the lower right, so old Santa values collide with modern Santa merely a block apart; the reindeer are beside themselves.
But I think this house takes the Griswald gold medal; I try to walk past it at least once a day because it makes me so happy. It faces a lovely little park where even the streetlamps look like oversized Christmas lights:
Well, I'm off to watch Julie & Julia with Mr. L, a movie about which I'm a little too excited and only slightly bitter. Excited because I found the book immensely entertaining and bitter because when I was living in the woods in Maine and home alone all day, I took some Julia Child cookbooks out from the library and made all sorts of absurd-yet-delicious things like puff pastry amuse-bouches and raspberries in little chocolate bowls (made by pouring melted chocolate over inflated balloons, then popping them - I kid you not). But did I think of writing a blog about it, then getting a book deal, then selling the movie rights then rolling around in my suitcases of money? Nooooo. I did not. But that was the year I started making dolls, so I'm grateful for that. I'm sure someday very soon, the charming and beautiful Amy Adams will play me in a movie about my life as a doll-maker and Meryl Streep will play Mr. L.. Erm wait, no - that's not quite right. Clive Owen will play Mr. L and Meryl will play my alter ego and then the entire cast and I will roll around in our suitcases of cash.