Well, if Dave and I didn’t convince the neighbors that we’re complete idiots on Halloween, I’m confident we’ve done it now.
Yesterday, we set out to put our outdoor Christmas lights up.
It went about as well for us as it did for that guy in the The 12 Pains of Christmas song.
I was optimistic when we started. The boxes of Christmas decorations were clearly labeled and easy to access in our new outbuilding. I had tested the Christmas lights, separated each strand and packed them carefully for our move just two months ago, so I had every reason to believe that they would work.
I was wrong.
Despite my best packing efforts, I opened the light box to discover a ball of tangled cord confusion. We worked tirelessly to unravel it, spreading each cord out onto the front lawn in order to avoid a recurrence of the magical cord melding phenomenon that took place since we packed them. Then, we began testing the lights.
We thought the white lights would look best, so we started with them. We plugged them in, strand after strand, with disappointing results. The first strand didn’t work, the second didn’t work, only half of the third strand worked. The sun was starting to set when we discovered that we had enough colored strands to begin our decorating. We would encircle the porch banister with colored twinkle lights. That was, until halfway through, two strands stopped working.
Okay. We’d had enough with those old lights. We decided to run out to the store and get new ones. We chose colored lights for the railing around the porch and icicle lights for on the house. It was completely dark out when we arrived back home, but with the porch light on, we were able to get the colored lights up. After one more trip to the store, that is. We had misjudged the length we needed. Still, we called it a day on Sunday having accomplished something.
Today, we were determined to get the icicle lights up. After trying three different ladders and a contraption we rigged up with a rope, we found that we just couldn’t reach the place where we wanted to string the lights. Being the creative geniuses we are, we decided that Dave would balance on the edge of the porch outside the railing while I stood inside and wrapped my arms around him for support.
You know those commercials – I think they’re for an insurance company – where the people fail to use common sense? One of them begins with a guy on a ladder next to a bee hive who is talking to his friend on the ground, holding a trash can. The guy tells his friend to get the lid on fast after he cuts the hive down. Then, he slips and grabs the hive as he falls down. Dave and I could star in a commercial like that.
After one small fall, we got the icicle lights up around the porch and called it quits, shouting: “You’re so smart! You rig up the lights!!!”
Maybe we’ll try again this weekend.