You Too Can Go Home For Christmas Not only have I not returned home for Christmas for the past few years -- I'm not even quite sure where home is. When I packed up my New York apartment, I knew that I would see my photos, souvenirs, and furniture in a few months when I found a new home at the Jersey Shore. My goal was to set up a waterfront office from which I could run a consulting business. Inspired by the view -- sky above, sea below I would not only work, I would rush out for early morning walks along the beach, write two novels a year, and spend weekends entertaining friends from Washington, Philadelphia, and New York. I had goals and I had a plan. I wouldn't give up my home without a plan would I? I must have had a plan. Unfortunately, I can't actually remember the plan. After all, I made it six years ago. I left New York for England in November 1994 and the following month headed to Chicago for three months. I stayed nine. From there I stopped in New York for a fun assignment. I spent a few months at the shore but then I was off to Washington. I can't recall how I got to DC but the day I left one assignment another great opportunity opened up. I stayed. Then, after a stop in Philadelphia and a couple more months at the shore, I was back in England where I got a call from a dot.com in Boston. Bottom line: six years later I've seen a lot of things but not my photos, souvenirs, or furniture. Or the view from my imagined waterfront office. Until last Christmas. Just like eating that first potato chip, I started by buying a Christmas tree ornament of the Cape May Lighthouse. Just one nice souvenir from a winter trip from my temporary home in Boston to the Jersey Shore. I didn't have much use for the item. I was living in temporary quarters. All my Christmas decorations were in storage. I didn't plan on having a tree. I tried hanging the miniature lighthouse in the window, standing it on the sill, and sticking it in a plant. Let's face it, what good is a Christmas tree ornament without a tree? . So I bought a fat, juicy, pine tree -- reminiscent of the Pinelands. And, along with some tiny white lights, I hung the lighthouse on the tree. Now that was a pathetic sight. Luckily Crate & Barrel had a bin of moderately priced generic lighthouses. I bought one of each variety. Since the local chain of Christmas Tree Shops had absolutely no Christmas ornaments by the time I arrived there, I started combing tourist shops in the small waterside towns in Massachusetts and Rhode Island. I stocked up wherever I could. My behavior at the lighthouse store in Newport, RI was the first indication that I had a problem. I quit buying lighthouses cold turkey. But . . . it takes a lot of ornaments to adorn a tree that can be labeled festive. The lighthouses weren't going to cut it alone. I went back on the road looking for boats. At first, I thought sailboats. Then I added kayaks. Canoes. Row boats. Fishing boats. Classic motor boats from Restoration Hardware. Santas riding jet skis. I had water transportation covered but, I soon realized, only the type covered by small craft warnings. The tall ships were coming. They deserved representation on my tree. I found three. Once I started thinking ship as opposed to boat, my search intensified. I imagined the entrance to the Delaware Bay. I did find a cruise ship or I think I did. Sometimes with these ornaments it's hard to tell. What I found was a big boat painted gunmetal gray that appears to have portholes for staterooms and decks for walking. I called it a cruise ship. (I'm still on the hunt for a good oil tanker or similar industrial carrier. It's been a year and I'm still having trouble. I don't get it. What says Christmas better than a cargo ship? ) When I brought the boats home it just seemed natural to line them up under the lighthouses. After all, that's how it looked in real life -- except for the beach in between. Soon I was back at the stores conducting a futile search for beach umbrellas but succeeding in buying beach chairs. Some are plain. Some say Essex Connecticut. Some advertise Cape May. All are larger than most of the lighthouses. Nonetheless, I loaded them onto the tree between the boats and the lighthouses. I also found sand dollars for $.50 a piece and hung them among the beach chairs with bright red ribbons. (I know you're thinking I could have gone to the beach, picked up some shells, and drilled holes in them. Good idea except the nearby Massachusetts beaches are covered with rocks -- a little heavy for the tree branches.) I got started on fish when I spotted three hanging together in Crate & Barrel near the lighthouses. Just because I couldn't actually see them, didn't mean that fish were not part of my view. I couldn't imagine who else would buy them but the saleswoman assured me they were a popular item as she wrapped them. Once I was into fish, I didn't want to discriminate against lobsters, crab traps, or the larger occupants of the ocean. Happy whales and smiling dolphins from the Discovery Channel Store started swimming with my fish. You can see where this is going. I looked up from the lighthouses. I saw birds and planes. Ornaments representing both were no problem -- although I am concerned that a few of the planes have a militaristic look inappropriate for the holidays. I found both types of flying objects in Christmas shops but I already had craft shop birds I'd worn in my hair on Halloween -- as Tippi Hedren from the Hitchock movie. In keeping with the Christmas spirit, I made sure all the fake blood was removed before using the birds on the tree. Christmas was close when I realized that birds were one thing; waterfowl were quite another. There appears to be discrimination in the world of Christmas tree paraphernalia against waterfowl. Apparently, Darth Vader is a seasonal necessity but geese, while appropriate for cards, are not considered viable candidates for use as ornaments. I had a loon in storage but it wouldn't do me any good buried in a bin. Luckily the proprietor of the Christmas tree shop in Essex, Connecticut took great pride in discovering some ducks and geese hidden away among his huge supply of decorations. They may have been underrepresented but the waterfowl did get a place on my tree. Now that I had water and sky with beach and lighthouses in between, I realized that the land behind the lighthouses required representation. I figured this search would be a cinch. Cute little houses -- maybe with Christmas wreaths attached. Guess again. I found only one ball adorned with a painting of a Victorian House. This from an industry that has immortalized Santa surfing on a cell phone. I had to settle for Santas riding bicycles, Santas driving classic VW convertibles and one school bus. I considered the tree done until one of my first Christmas gifts I received came wrapped in gold stars. They went on the top of the tree -- and of course I made a last run to pick up a few wooden ornaments cut into star shape. (I know that I should think of the sun when I think of the beach but you try to find enough sun ornaments to top off a tree.) Shortly before Christmas, all the ornament shopping caught up with me. I got the flu. So instead of heading south for Christmas I spent the day laying on the couch and staring at my Christmas tree. Stars, planes, birds, house, cars, bikes, lighthouses, beach items, shells, waterfowl, fish each strung around the tree in the appropriate layer. The vision carried me to home I had yet to find. The vision or maybe the hundred and two degree fever. Probably a little of both. Nonetheless, I did get home for Christmas. If only in my dreams. My hallucinogenic, feverish dreams. Over the past year I've worked on perfecting the tree. Houses are still the problem area. I haven't added any new categories except to include some bobbers among the boats. And, I do have my eye on a bait shop. But to tell you the truth, I am looking forward to the day when I have the real view and a tree that reflects the memories of my other residences. There is still time this season for stocking up. In New York and Chicago, I enjoyed . . . make that had . . . views of other people's apartments. Honoring those vistas will require some thinking. In Washington, however, I lived on the same block as the National Zoo. As I recall the Discovery Channel Store had quite a selection of wild animal ornaments. I might just pick up a few. After all, what says Christmas better than a wildebeest? Copyright 2000 by Jane Kelly |
