She doesn’t have a special man now, but the men she had in the past often couldn’t meet her minimum standards:  masculine confidence with a little humility, kindness and dedication to support her needs and inspirations, as well as a gentle spirit that also was framed around strength.  But one deal breaker was this: they must let her decorate for Christmas with the liveliness and energy that made her cheeks blush with joy.  No questions asked, no words like do you think that’s enough Christmas spirit honey?  That is why she decorates alone now, although sometimes her girlfriends come over and help, as long as they don’t get too tipsy from the drinks and break all the bulbs.  But even when alone, she dresses the part, wearing her hip-hugging, leg-announcing red wool Christmas skirt, with a white snow outline and a white blouse adorned by a mistletoe necklace, just in case there are quality gentleman visitors

As soon as the leftover Turkey vanishes from Turkey Day, she loads up the decoration boxes from the garage and basement and brings them upstairs.  Of course, she immediately turns on the Sonos music system throughout the house to enjoy all her favorite Christmas music which she sings non-stop while she puts up the tree. Some of her favorites to sing along with are:  Dean Martin’s Baby It’s Cold Outside:  I really can’t stay, but baby it’s cold outside, this evening has been hoping you’d drop in.  My father will be pacing the floor, listen to the fireplace roar.  So really, I’d better scurry, beautiful, please don’t hurry.   Well maybe just a half a drink more, put some records on while I pour.  Your eyes are starlight now…I really can’t stay, baby don’t hold out, baby it’s cold outside… sister will be suspicious, gosh your lips are delicious…After one glass of egg nogg with the right amount of rum, the tree is up, and on she goes to put up garlands around the roaring fireplace.  It’s at that time, that she starts her second glass of egg nogg and sings along to Winter Wonderland: Later on, we’ll PERSPIRE as we dream by the fire…She giggles loudly each time she says perspire, reminding her of her childhood play on words.  After all, kids didn’t know what conspire meant.

 After she finishes with the fireplace garlands and the lights, she finishes her second eggnog and proceeds to hang mistletoe strategically in various rooms of the house, well, pretty much everywhere, because this Christmas goddess loves warm Christmas kisses from her favorite man, and so there she hangs mistletoe in the kitchen so that she can enjoy some special sensual motivation while cooking, the living room, and other secret rooms off the beaten path.  And after Bing Crosby sings White Christmas and Nat King Cole guides her on a sing a long about Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire, she is surprised to find out she has consumed three glasses of delicious rum egg nogg.

And then, she is finished for now at least, and the warmth of the season is coursing through her body and soul, aided by the egg nogg, and she was feeling pretty damn good.  Then the doorbell rings and the single neighbor guy, who waved at her months ago when they both admired the majestic rainbows after the thunderstorm from their respective decks, smiled widely at her as she opens the door.

“Hi neighbor.  My name is Renaldo.  I thought I’d introduce myself finally to my rainbow-girl neighbor and here’s a gift of some smooth red wine for your Christmas holidays.”

“So, kind of you, please come in.  My name is Joanne.  Please have a seat and enjoy some egg nogg with me if you have time.” She was beaming and she knew her face was flushed crimson, but also, she noticed the honest kindness in his eyes.

“Thank you, but no, I can’t stay long. I just came to drop off —”

“Just one drink and tell me a little about the neighborhood.”

He never a knew what a Christmas skirt was, but now he was pleased to see what must be the cream of the crop.  And he noticed the small dab of egg nogg cream on her upper lip, but said nothing but just took it all in gratefully with honor.

“Ok.  Just one drink, then I must go…”

© SRCarson Publications, 2025