A long time ago, we 'adopted' (or were adopted by, more like) a wonderful old grandmother-type who had lost her children in their youth. She doted on Skip, and we tried to make sure that she felt well taken care of by us.
In her neighbourhood was this street that was the talk of the town every Christmas. When we first moved to California, she would talk about it, and make sure that we came by to her house, and then onwards to the Well Lit Street.
This year, I made sure to take time out to take Nate and Kelly down the street, too. I think later this week, while grandma is here, we'll all go as a family and walk the two blocks of wonder.
These ornaments? As long as my arm.
Making the tree look proportionate, even though it's two stories tall.
The local high school chorale was strolling down the street, stopping to sing in front of every house. They were pretty darned good. I think it might inspire Kelly to try to take one of the chorus electives at middle school next year.
One of the houses had this vintage window-display Santa from a bygone era. Every kid stops to sit in Santa's lap.
(except Nate. He's chicken-livered. Just like his mother)
It was a (warm) winter wonderland.
It still looks odd to me to have Christmas lights in a lemon tree, though.