My yearning for a Christmas village began at a young age. I remember the first time I saw those tiny, glowing houses at a friend's Christmas gathering and really thought about pulling a "Laura Ingalls stealing a music box from Nellie's birthday party" kind of move in order to make one of them my own.
Fortunately, I realized that I couldn't possible pull this off - not because my '80s hammer pants were not voluminous enough but because it would cause my crotch to glow invitingly. It's a good thing it didn't occur to me that the houses were just plugged in and did not glow due to Christmas magic - my life could have turned out veeeeeeeeeery differently.
My intense yearning for a Christmas village continued through my youth and into my young adulthood, but it was one of those things - like STDs and how you secretly liked Wesley Crusher - that you didn't talk about. In fact, my shame over wanting these kitschy holiday items over-powered my desire for over 30 years. Until this year. When the dam burst and I told Katr.
Katr doesn't love clutter. But she does love me. She tried to deke me out by suggesting that she wasn't going to indulge my village yearnings, but when, in the face of her masterful deception, my face crumpled like the saddest lesbian in Lesbonia, she gave up her wicked charade and the next day, this appeared:
Please excuse the blurry photo. My hand was shaking with excitement.
Part of the joy of the village is being able to look at it lovingly throughout the holiday season - this is difficult to achieve when you unwrap your village gifts on Christmas morning. Katr gave me this stunning Bluebird Cottage from Department 56's Dickens collection on December 8th. Because she knew how bad I wanted a village. And because I like things that are Dickensian.
At first, it was just the Bluebird Cottage, lonely on the ledge, yet warm and inviting, with its glowing light inside.
Then, one magical Christmas eve, these babes showed up, courtesy of my brother in law Drtr.
And the next morning, Stratford Pies and Tarts opened up and the whole neighbourhood went to hell.
Flirting by the fish and chips...
The Tea Lady and the Pie Man are clearly TOTALLY DOING IT. Look at those guilty mugs! Like we just caught them at something illicit! Plus, the Pie Man appears to be sporting wood. Good period detail, Department 56.
Those nuns stayed ALL NIGHT. Also, note the adorable birdhouse in the back. It's a wee little church!!
Aw, yeah, motherfuckin' VILLAGE.
It took all I had to pack the village up this year as we were putting away our holiday decorations. But I know that it wouldn't be special if it was up all year round! I can't wait to see what building pops up in Roseshire next year! Because I am a HUGE NERD.