blogs for the
Domestic Diva Mysteries
by Krista Davis
In my younger days, when my husband was still alive and our house fairly sparkled with Christmas lights, I brought a homemade chocolate silk pie over to a lonely neighbor in her seventies. She took one look at that thick, uneven crust and said, "I don't eat pie."
Well, gosh, what do you say to that? I meant to do something nice for a woman who was alone for Christmas, and what did I get for my efforts? A big fat bah humbug!
Now I'm in her shoes. I'm the old widow on the block and the younger women think they're doing me favors. Two years ago, Natasha came by and hung a fuchsia wreath on my door. What do you say to something like that?
I said, "Where in the dickens do they sell fuchsia wreaths?"
She said, and very proudly I might add, "I made it myself."
Let's be honest. If she had brought me a pie, I could have accepted it and thrown it out. But what could I do with that fuchsia wreath? I mean, people would think that's my taste!
So I took it down and told her the dog ate it. Then last year, she hung a neon red mess on my front door. I don't know what's wrong with her!
What happened to green wreaths made of pine, and adorned with berries and pine cones or even just a nice red bow?
So this year, I'm a step ahead of her. I bought a nice green wreath, just like the ones I used to make myself, and I've already hung it on my door. And I bought a lovely purple feather gizmo and hung it on Natasha's front door. Wonder what she'll say?
Hehehe. The joy of Christmas giving! I believe I'll pour myself a nice eggnog and spike it with a little bourbon. Y'all have yourselves a good Christmas!