Sacco refuses to hang lights outside the Hovel. He also wishes I would stop calling our house “the Hovel” but I bought it and can call it whatever I want, so there. Witches live in Hovels (Noun: A small, squalid, unpleasant, or simply constructed dwelling.) I also liked the imagery and especially like to apply it to my home. I don’t like visitors unless I invite them in, so I imagine were I a Witch in some fairy tale, my home would look highly unpleasant from the outside to discourage random riff-raff (the public, not the character–HE is more than welcome). Even if it were a quite nice home and the Hovel appearance only a glamour.
ANYWAY, Sacco won’t hang any lights. I have some white lights and some big trees that I feel should buddy up. Last night I got home, release THE HOUNDS OF HELL, and let them do their doggy business while I attempted to be creative on the back porch. First I hung the icicle type lights around the porch. I plugged them in and gave them a critical once over. They did go round the entire porch, slowly slipped from their stations, and generally looked half-arsed. I sighed, unplugged them, yelled at the puppy to stop eating whatever bit of filth she had found, yelled at the crabby old bat to get out from UNDER the porch (a six inch dog can and will get anywhere), and tried to think of something else to do with the lights as I de-webbed the dwarf dog who was most unappreciative of my efforts.
I don’t have a ladder. Not a REAL ladder anyway. I have a kitchen step stool. As it was wet out, I did not want my kitchen equipment to get overly dirty so I just stared at the fork in the tree. I thought of the hangman’s noose we did not get up for Halloween. And then without thinking much further, I bundled up the lights and tossed them in the fork’s general direction.
I am not depriving the WNBA of my skills by any means. There is now a knot of lights caught on wee little branches that are really hard to see at night up in the fork of a tree in my back yard. Festive, no?
I went back inside (after extracting the old lady from UNDER THE DAMN PORCH again), lectured Specka on the dangers of Brown Recluse spiders (which I am sure she understood perfectly), and had a glass of wine. When Sacco got home, I informed him he needed to bring a proper ladder home from work to remedy the tree situation. He went outside and giggled at me for a full episode of Top Gear.