Squeak and Jingle

The weather turned a little cooler and we went to Newman's nursery and bought holiday wreaths. Instead of displaying them outside in the nursery lot, they were inside in a cold storage locker at the back of the store, in the dark and so heavily misted that they were sopping wet. The manager had to lead us down a dark hallway to get to them. I guess you can't leave dead evergreens outside in arid, warm weather for very long.

We hung two on the front doors. Nails were already there in the center of each door.

On the wall where my kite-flying whimsy plaque had been, I hung a Father Christmas plaque. Who knew I had so many wooden wall hangings to choose from?

Over the garage we hung another wreath. I would have liked it to hang higher up, but again the nail was already there so that's where it went.

And on the gate I put a strip of bells that I brought from Connecticut, so that the gate not only squeaks but jingles now too. It makes me laugh out loud every time I come through the gate.

Now to decorate the inside and put up the tree. It's fun creating familiar rituals in a new place.

Tradition and change. Jingle and squeak.