Naughty or Nice

How was your Christmas? Was there a box of chocolate covered cherries in your stocking or a fat lump of coal? You know it all depends on whether Santa had you marked as naughty or nice on his famous list, right?

I had an exceptionally good Christmas, and after getting a peek at Santa’s list, I know that it was my due as one of the “nice” kids. In fact, if one’s name is even close to being spelled like mine–Leslie, the odds are in your favor. Only poor Lesli was on the naughty list.

Have a burning desire to know where you fell on Santa’s list this year? Check out this link from the Department of Christmas Affairs:

Of course we all have an opportunity to do better in 2020, so I suggest we all get started. Thanks to my friend Denise for calling my attention to this site. Of course she’s considering changing the spelling of her name now. Naughty girl that she is.

Peace, people!

Christmas Decor at Doright Manor

Doright Manor isn’t a fancy place. Studly Doright and I seldom (never) entertain, and neither of us is overly concerned with having a spotless house.

I do enjoy playing with decorative items, though. And while my styling taste is on the eclectic side it’s also not expensive. All those years of having no money taught me how to make do with the decorating resources at hand.

Here’s a little tour of a few of my Christmas vignettes:

The Santa above was purchased for me when I was about four. When Mom passed away it was one of the few items I wanted. The old guy is getting pretty worn, but he’s my favorite decoration.

This Christmas bear would greet guests at the front door if we ever had any. I bought him at a post-holiday sale many years ago.

My mismatched Christmas village is mostly comprised of items I’ve found at garage sales. I like that the items are built to different scales. Imperfection pleases me.

Studly Doright has yet to notice the sprig of mistletoe hanging in the main hallway. I’ve gone unkissed for several days now. Well not exactly, but no kissing has occurred under the mistletoe.

My preppy reindeer couple and stylized Christmas trees are relative newcomers to Doright Manor. I need a backdrop for them, but nothing has caught my eye yet.

Our main tree is perfect in an imperfect way. I used to do a fancy schmancy tree, but it was sort of boring.

Above are stockings that SHOULD have been given to my children when they started their own families, but I cry every time I think of letting them go. The bear was bought for our daughter’s first Christmas and the reindeer for our son’s. Neither of them holds many goodies, which was a good thing in those years we were so poor.

Since we don’t have a fireplace, our stockings are hung on the bookshelves with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. From left are Studly’s, mine, and the two cats’.

That’s our dining table with Santa and a single reindeer.

Below is my gigantic angel overseeing the nativity. Almost a Gulliver’s Travels situation going on here, but I love my nativity scene.

Scout was interested in my placement of each piece, so I took the opportunity to tell her the story of how Jesus came to be born in a stable and placed in a manger.

Here she is, looking for the baby. Well, that’s my story anyway.

My cowboy snowman is fittingly in the Texas guest room.

This Santa is in one of the guest bathrooms. He is quite discreet when folks need to use the facilities.

On my kitchen hutch is a party of reindeer being hosted by my naughty elf on the shelf. They raise a ruckus in the wee hours.

That’s about it, I suppose. Thanks for taking the tour.

Peace on earth, and good will towards men, people!

Undecorating Doright Manor

old me, out of shape
laid low by this holiday

hips aching, joints creak
too much reaching and bending
Advil take my pain

finally finished
celebrate with Shiner Bock
crap! one Santa left

I went above and beyond the call of duty today. As a perennial underachiever I don’t say that lightly. Not only did I take down all of my Christmas decorations, but I also organized them, and designated certain pieces for Goodwill and others for the trash. 

I’ve been threatening to do so for the past ten or twelve years, but always managed to talk myself out of it just in time. Now I know why I put off this task for so long. It took me all day and now I hurt everywhere. Apparently I’m not in good enough shape to put away Christmas decorations. That might be the saddest sentence I’ve ever typed. 

Sounds like a great idea for a New Year’s resolution: I resolve to pay someone to do this next year.

Peace, people.

Kringle Haiku

Kringle, my selfie elf, wanted in on the blogging gig. I told him it pays nothing, but he’s just full of good will and charity. Enjoy:

Every Christmas
Kringle elf patiently waits
For Santa’s signal

Silver bells ringing
Calling across time and space
To all clever elves

“Hurry ho, ho, home!”
Santa cries, “Christmas draws nigh!”
Elves rush north posthaste

Kringle soon will leave
For Santa’s North Pole workshop
Where magic lives still

 Praying for Eyebrowz Copyright 2015 by Leslie Noyes.

Slay Bells: Sort of a Review of Krampus

I saw Krampus last weekend. (Cue evil laugh.)

What a fun, frightening, good old-fashioned horror film! 

The cast, led by Toni Collette and Adam Scott, is perfect in this holiday from hell. Their family’s upscale Christmas celebration is first darkened by the arrival of the perpetually down on their luck relatives who are more than just a little reminiscent of Randy Quaid and Miriam Flynn’s characters in Christmas Vacation. But obnoxious relatives become the least of this family’s worries.

Remember in Christmas Vacation the chaos that ensued when in lieu of a hefty Christmas bonus Clark Griswold received a crappy fruitcake from his clueless boss? The family in Krampus would have welcomed the fruitcake. Instead, they receive a visit from Santa’s “shadow” after their young son’s Christmas wish goes horribly wrong. Or perhaps horribly right. Perspective is everything.

I haven’t enjoyed a horror film this much in years. The slasher films leave me cold–all blood and guts with no real story. Krampus has some of the blood and a few of the guts, a heap of great suspenseful moments, what with a blackout blizzard and evil creatures hiding in dark, swirly places, and a bit of a story. Maybe there’s a moral tucked in there, as well. “Be careful child, for what you wish.”

Peace, people!