I mean, look at the reflection off the ceiling!
Unpacking my Christmas junk this year, to say I SAVE EVERYTHING is a freakin' understatement.
I'm the queen of loving the old, ticky-tacky-crappy, ohsoshiny, unloveable stuff. The tackier, the better. The weird shit. I have a collection going back to my childhood, and regularly add to it from estate sales and thrift shops.
Firstly, dig the boxes out of the garage. Ornaments are NEVER stored in the garage, as I love my ornaments almost as much as I do my chickens. This is just the initial holiday layer, anyway. Lights, room decorations, outdoor lights...that kind of stuff.
And are you even a Christmas traditionalist if you don't keep your stuff in 9000 year old, weird boxes that you've been using since the dawn of time itself?
But some things just can't last. This was my beloved tacky-shiny tree topper--don't ask me where I got it, some estate sale years ago. Original 1960's dohickey.
But last year not only did the base break off, but the light strand refused to light (bad wire). I thought about getting a new light strand...but then realized it has ELEVEN lights. Not 12. What monster made this thing with a weird number of lights?! I still may scavenge it for parts, tho--those finger-stabber plastic flower thingeys are too cool, as are the pink light bulbs--not to mention that gold reflector in the middle.
In Target the other day, I round the corner...and low and behold, the successor to tackycrappy tree topper!
And IT'S HUGE. When I saw it I swear I heard angels sing. So right up my alley.
And even better lit.
I may swap out the clear bulbs for colored ones, gotta try it and see how it looks.
Not all joy, though. I had a creeping sense of dread recalling how tired I was last year when taking down the tree, and seemed to recall just shoving things in boxes to be done with it...
AUGH!!!
Yup, ball o' tree lights. Spent a merry fifteen minutes or so grumbling swear words at myself, phrases included 'You dumbshit' and other well-deserved phrases.
By the way, the white lights that have FIVE cords going to each damned light is a giant strand of programmable chaser lights that have all kinds of effects. Surprisingly, once I get the tree decorated that 50 miles or so of white cord hides pretty well.
But the prize of the day from spelunking in the Christmas boxes was for sure this thing, which I had frankly forgotten I'd owned. This was how people did things in 1981 before the days of the sequenced lights so common now. I've never used it.
The D-LITE MODEL 100!
You can tell it's modern, because they boldly put 'Disco' right out there on the front of the box, God help us.
Sweet cover art.
Let's take this ten pound bad boy out of the box, shall we?
All the cords and bits are there...
The back. Note 'Made in Taiwan ROC', which I think Taiwan stopped putting on their products around the time this thing was made. See that double-ended cord with RCA plugs?
Yeah, that's how you're gonna connect it to your stereo.
What? You don't have a stereo, much less one that uses RCA connections?
I do. An 800 pound big ol' Marantz receiver that I love to death. Seriously thinking about wiring this sucker into Christmas this year.
Also note the three H, M, L connections. To see what that's about, let's check the instructions.
Because yup, I got those TOO. And the warranty card, yowzer!
The instruction booklet is about eight pages long, fussy as hell and horribly labor intensive.
One of the first steps is to vandalize this thing and strip the cord down to bare wire so you can ram those wires into the speaker connections on the back of your receiver (this is how you hooked up speakers back in the day). The H, M, L is so you can wire your tree to light up differently in three zones! I mean, who wouldn't want that? But I especially like the part about using this thing with an AM radio. Modern technology, babies!
And yeah, it's not the most powerful thing on the planet. And today's tech is FAR superior.
But think how quaint and antiquated today's tech will be in 40 years.
So Eggroll the Blue-Laced Red Wyandotte rooster is now just shy of 8 months old and stands 2 feet tall. Haven't weighed him lately. I'm kind of afraid to.
His crossbeak seems to have settled down, mostly staying the same right now. We keep it trimmed and it does NOT interfere with his eating.
At all.
He's very sweet and personable, and his BLR colors are gorgeous. And while the little meatwad still resists growing a tail, crowing, or chasing hens he's got one heck of a dinosaur head frill coming in.
So majestic*.
*Nope
The fall colors in the yard are very pretty this year. Got a few pics the other day as the sun was going down, hitting the back yard plants so they were just glowing...
The Contorted Redbud changing colors...
The crape myrtle showing off its fruit.
The Service Berry with spent fruit still hanging on...
And I discovered a volunteer Rabbit Brush. Pretty flowers, but IT MUST DIE.
In the chicken yard, the pear tree still has a few fruit to go...
Imminent Disaster discovering that when your sister Dubious Intentions dustbathes, she churns up goodies.
One of the Cockspur Hawthorne trees displaying its fall colors, cool bark and drupes...
Bobbie the buff Brahma rooster molted a lovely feather...
At the very back of our property, the neighbor's some-sort-of-grape plant crowding through the fence. Not producing that I noticed this year.
I have another one planted elsewhere and it's doing well, and will replant this one in the chicken yard from cuttings from it--so all is not lost.
But dang, I wish I could move this dead one to the front yard, it's totally Halloween-creepy. And the curly branches are so photogentic! I plan on setting out the branches when we take it down, offering them to crafters in our area to come and get.
It made great shade and cover for the chickens, and they loved eating the leaves.
Speaking of chickens...
Left to right: Bobbie the buff Brahma roo, Chonk the light Brahma hen in back. In front, Henry the bantam golden-laced Wyandotte, Tater Tot the Belgian d'Uccle/bantam/Cochin mix, Sesame the Smokey Pearl, Slick Charlie the partridge Rock behind her, and Kana the Bantam Cochin mix next to her.
Eating is the main talent they all seem to have.
When Chonk is in your lap you know you're holding some serious chicken meat.
And nobody delivers 'Day of Judgement' scowls like Chonk does.
Meanwhile, Mjolnir is caught mid-wattle-fling like a paused-action 'starring' shot from a 1970's crime drama TV show:
Eggroll has settled on being a rooster, though no crowing or interest in hens as yet. His crossbeak has worsened a bit, but we're keeping it trimmed. Tell-tale sickle-shaped saddle feathers coming in on either side of his as yet still non-existent tail (God I love hyphens, don't I?). He's also working up fantastic dinosaur frill feathers above his eyes.
But nothing competes with eating for him right now.
Peanut continues to impersonate a Hoopoe bird with her Rooster Handle.
Pardon the food she's wearing above her eye.
In the front yard, our struggling MacIntosh apple is making lil' fruits, but is producing every year now.
It's total yield, they're the size of racquet balls:
Also out front a few lingering flowers...
