Ornamented
Last night The Flatmate and I got busy decking the halls, jingling the bells and harking the herald angels. Despite the example of the shopping centres, who have started putting up anticipatory tinsel in late September, I like to wait until December 1 before dragging the tree out the back of my wardrobe and the baubles out of the cupboard. It's always just a little sad, seeing everything coated in dust and slightly nibbled by the more adventurous silverfish. But once they're shaken out, and we finish our coughing fits, the yuletide buzz kicks in and I for one start to feel that unique joy that only comes with Christmas.
We started with the tree, which is an odd structure originally intended to festive up the aisles of a boutique department store. I acquired it several years ago while visiting an arts and crafts wholesaler, and I've kept it because a) it's cool and b) no one else has one. It's basically a spiral of dried and twisted vine. You attach the centre of the spiral to a hook in the ceiling, and it unwinds to form a conical tree shape. The little thorns and split vine ends are perfect for hanging baubles, and the entire length can be easily wound with tinsel.
The lack of a stand also means that Santa can fit more loot under it. And I want a Playstation this year, fat boy. Or an Audi.
Next I set up my Nativity, which I bought at Pellegrinis, the local Catholic store. Pellegrinis is well worth the occasional visit. It's a bastion of woggy kitsch, with plastic Madonnas, rosaries in every colour of the rainbow, and those creepy pictures of a wispy-bearded Jesus with eyes that follow you around the room.
And still, it's nowhere near as tacky as a Protestant store like Koorong. Go figure.
My Nativities tend not to follow the strict letter of the gospel accounts of Jesus' birth. But I like to think that they follow the spirit.
And finally, I put up my Christmas Greeting magnets, which I made after the house was burgled in early December 2001. They pass on my joyous yuletide message even to those who would invade my home and generally cause me grief.
We started with the tree, which is an odd structure originally intended to festive up the aisles of a boutique department store. I acquired it several years ago while visiting an arts and crafts wholesaler, and I've kept it because a) it's cool and b) no one else has one. It's basically a spiral of dried and twisted vine. You attach the centre of the spiral to a hook in the ceiling, and it unwinds to form a conical tree shape. The little thorns and split vine ends are perfect for hanging baubles, and the entire length can be easily wound with tinsel.
The lack of a stand also means that Santa can fit more loot under it. And I want a Playstation this year, fat boy. Or an Audi.
Next I set up my Nativity, which I bought at Pellegrinis, the local Catholic store. Pellegrinis is well worth the occasional visit. It's a bastion of woggy kitsch, with plastic Madonnas, rosaries in every colour of the rainbow, and those creepy pictures of a wispy-bearded Jesus with eyes that follow you around the room.
And still, it's nowhere near as tacky as a Protestant store like Koorong. Go figure.
My Nativities tend not to follow the strict letter of the gospel accounts of Jesus' birth. But I like to think that they follow the spirit.
And finally, I put up my Christmas Greeting magnets, which I made after the house was burgled in early December 2001. They pass on my joyous yuletide message even to those who would invade my home and generally cause me grief.
posted by Blandwagon at 10:18 AM
3 Comments:
I like the idea that Godzilla was at the birth of Christ. Mebbe smiting a few Romans, you know.
Unless he was there to wreak havoc in Bethlehem... So much has been left out of the Bible!
Hey, do you know if Pellegrinis is still around somewhere? The place where it was has shut down (last i saw) and I wanted to get hold of a particular Diptych of the Annunciation like one my mum bought there.
Sadly, Pellegrinis does indeed appear to be no more. The closest thing I could find in the Yellow Pages is something called the Catholic Corner, located in one of the more depressing light industrial sectors of Canning Vale.
This is sad news for all Catholics and lovers of fine Catholic kitsch.
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