Let there be light(s)
Monsters be there. Demons to strike fear into the heart on any stout-hearted man. Of course, I’m too ignorant to be fearful, so I tune the satellite to Sounds of the Season and whistle “Dashing through the snow” all the way to the garage in search of my prized collection of Christmas Lights. Naturally, they are buried at the back of the tallest shelf along with the bug sprayers, weed sprayers and noxious chemicals perched precariously in front to them. Prudence tells me I should remove these... Sign in to see full entry.