Glad Tidings

Christmas,1960. About this time my mother's artistic leanings would compel her to begin a tradition of painting a Christmas theme on the picture window in the living room. Our outside decorations were always pretty spare; Dad was always at work, and I don't think he ever really enjoyed spending his leisure time hanging bulbs around the house. He would put up a few strings of those big old bulbs, the kind that would get really hot, and place them around the picture window. Sometimes he would hang up a strand across the front of the house, and maybe a few in the bushes, but that was it. A few years we had a spotlight in the front yard, but on the whole our outdoor display was pretty minimalist.
Mom, on the other hand, loved Christmas, and she decorated the inside of the house with as much stuff as she could find. Everything had holly printed on it, everything was red and green. We would hang our Christmas cards in rows on string across the kitchen wall or on one of the living room walls, an honor roll of calling cards from friends and neighbors that grew with each passing year.
Our Christmas tree was pretty scraggly - looking most years, at least until we got the decorations on it. Mom and I usually did the tree trimming. Dad would get the lights on, and we would take it from there. When we were through it was as beautiful as any Christmas tree could be. We had lots of antique ornaments, well, then they were just old, including my first baby rattle from when I was born; a jolly plastic Santa carrying his bag of toys. It's still on the tree every year.
As I said, Mom needed to express herself artistically, and Dad's idea of a front yard display wasn't up to snuff, so Mom got out her poster paints and went to work on her canvas of glass. The first year she did a Nativity scene, with Mary and Joseph looking down upon the baby Jesus. Later she would paint a jolly Santa Claus, then a Nativity scene again. She only did it for a few years, but I always thought it was really special, it was something nobody else had, and I was really proud of Mom and her painting.
The neatest present in our house that year was a Flintstones play set that my brother got. A plastic Bedrock village with a mat showing all the streets and places to put your cave houses. Little figures of Fred, Wilma, Betty and Barney, and Dino and other citizens of the town. Fred and Barney's cars were included, too. The way Carl treated his stuff meant that it wouldn't survive for long.
I got a set of army men, the tan ones against the green. I probably wished for an Alamo or a Fort Apache, but this would make do. I could always go over to Paul LaPann's house for other military adventures. No bikes this year; my red Rixe would suit me fine for a while longer.
I didn't really believe in Santa any more, but I went along for the ride. This may have been the year Uncle Dan began playing Santa, or maybe next year. He would be a welcome relief from the death mask St. Nick portrayed by Pop-Pop Gardner.
The best time, my favorite time at Christmas, would come again. The early evening joy of that well-deserved family nap. Dad in his vinyl recliner, Mom on the couch, and Carl and me and Whee-Zee on the living room floor, all joining in in a big Christmas snore.