Don't mess with Clark W. Griswold

Since Katrina/Feisty posted about Mr. Xmas, it jarred my memory about the Griswold house I found by accident the other night. I was driving to a friend's house and took a wrong turn. Oh, but it was the right turn after all. It was so bizarre to me that I went back a few days later with my camera.

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Exhibit C:

I used to be all deck the halls this time of year. Hell, I used to deck the halls for nearly every holiday. (but never this deck the halls) Then I got lazy, or tired, or just didn't feel like it anymore. I have boxes of decor for various holidays in the garage. Someone at the Goodwill will love them. Last year, in spite of the joyous celebration surrounding Cubicle Liberation Day, we didn't even put up the tree. This year, we had our living room cleared out for the new floor. Before we put furniture back, we forced ourselves to get the tree out. Yes, the fake tree. Pre-lit, doncha know. No sap, no needles, no worries. 'Tis a beautiful thing. Now it's up. It's decorated. But I still can't bring myself to risk life and/or limb to put lights out on the house. I'd pay someone but it just seems silly. I'll spend the money on wine instead. 'Cus that's much better.