Terry and I mounted a huge effort to decorate the house for the arrival of his relatives...ALL of them. The amusing thing about it all is that there is not one, real, living thing ornamenting the place. There is the rotating ball in front of the house which revolves and--with a spot light fixed on it--gives the impression of snow cascading down the front of the house and plenty of lights, wreaths, and ornaments filling every nook, ceramic monkeys festooned for the holiday, but not one, living--or recently living--thing. This is all fine for us, but if I remember correctly, Terry's sister always tries to sneak a real plant in. (I have one planted out back from two years ago that refuses to die.) We will also have to put up with an insane gift game where items are bargained and traded; after five years I still don't understand the rules, but I have complained loudly that the $10 value limit must be raised to at least $50 to make the game interesting. It's still $10 this year. They just don't get it: it is nearly impossible to find something for $10 on South Beach.
The artificial tree and color wheel have made their appearance.

Terry and Leopoldo are huddled under the tree.

Garlands have been hung above the diningroom.

The wreaths are back; the festively-lit one is up and over the outdoor deck.

The white wreath for the diningroom is back, too.

But the new addition this year is the feather wreath and it is probably the closest thing we have that is sort of real. I thought this was a bit too much in times like this, but it can be used as a hat in a pinch.

Today I will trot down to Pimpernel's Christmas get-together. Three more days of this and it will be over.