One of my favoritest things during the holiday season is the lights. And while I’ll take the clear bulbs that are oh-so-popular, the colored bulbs are what stir my soul.
I’ve never lived in a house adorned with holiday lights. Didn’t happen when I was a child and Mister and I don’t string lights outside now. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love seeing them around the neighborhood. There’s just something about the glow that makes me smile. I’m not a religious gal, but I do love those lights. And the way they stir my soul.
About an eon ago, when Mister and I had only been married a few years, we spent Christmas with his family in Colorado. After seeing a new holiday movie (“National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation”), the whole fam damily climbed into Mister’s daddy’s old Chevy Blazer and we set off into the cold Colorado night in search of “10,000 imported Italian twinkle lights.” As we climbed hills and descended into valleys, we listened to UB40’s version of “Red, Red Wine” on repeat. Rolling down the road, that Blazer was rocking! We all mis-sang the lyrics, again and again. Mister’s daddy, not knowing the line “whole heap of zing”, sang “Willy Pasini” and he sang it with gusto. That particular fun will never be duplicated, but that’s okay. It lives in my memory and I’ll never forget it. Especially since it comes to mind each year, as I drive around looking for lights. I can hardly wait for this year’s quest…