Can't help but think about my collection of Santas packed away in a tote. My collection started with one about 2" tall. Was ambling my way through a gift shop when I accidentally knocked it off the shelf. The store had the You Break You Buy signs up, so I gathered the pieces off the floor and paid for it. Took the broken Santa home, glued him together, and that was the start of my treasure hunt.
Every time I went to garage sales or thrift stores I'd keep an eye out for one that was different than the others. Some are Father Christmas dressed in long flowing garb, and others are the usual fat man dressed in red and trimmed in white fur. Here's a picture of the last time we displayed them here at Venny.
There are more to the collection. When we moved from our home, I gave each of our neighbor kids one of my precious Santas as a remembrance of us. One Santa has a wind-up music box in it. No two are alike, and it's a royal shame that I'm too lazy to put out the display and then re-pack 'em. Just ain't got the juice I once had.The largest one is a Father Christmas, and he's out in the hallway gracing the entrance to our home. Got him at a garage sale for $5. Every year people rave about him and all find it hard to believe the purchase price. He's really the Patriarch of the bunch. Isn't he regal? Might add that he's got to be quite old and well-preserved. His face is like porcelain.
Tis a dismal Sunday. We have the tree lights on, even though it's mid-day. It's our little way of enjoying the season together. Little Mr. Fuzz Bucket is with us until Tuesday, and right now he's under covers taking a snooze. Finished another A.C. book last night, so will start another. Sunday afternoon is perfect for a good read. Out of the 22 that I ordered, have 20 of them read already.
Hope all is well. Keep the faith.