(Not so far) away in a manger
By: Linda McCarthy
I am a holiday decoration snob. There, I admitted it. It’s not that I don’t have a tolerance for life-sized-plastic-light-up nativity scenes or for those inflatables with the blowing snow depicting any and every conceivable holiday situation. I’m sure they have their place in civilized society, just not on my front lawn.
My family and I have been at odds with this since I can remember. My husband brought home a blinking snowman one year and when he went to work I "donated" it to a friend three towns over. I told my husband it blew away. I also told him I was just as distraught as he was but replacing it would only remind me of the original one lying alone somewhere on the turnpike. I convinced him the holiday season was no time to dwell on the unpleasantries of the past and we put Frosty behind us.
Every time my sons came home from school with a handmade ornament, I’d ooooh and ahhhhh then hang it in the back of the tree. There were so many back there I either had to start using a counter weight or moving them toward the sides. Believe me it wasn’t an easy decision. There are still a few that I can’t bring myself to display; like the tongue depressor with "MERY CRISMIS" written in glitter. I got that one a few years ago. He was twelve.
This year, in addition to my usual tasteful exhibit of white lights and fresh pine wreaths with exquisite hand made bows, I’ve added an edgy new twist: an indoor, live manger scene. To be honest, I didn’t plan this. It just evolved over the year. Somehow, thanks to my boys and their friends, we’ve ended up with enough animals to qualify as a shelter. (I wonder if I can get state funding for that.)
Here’s the list: six birds, five fish, three dogs, an attack cat, a hamster, a white rat and a lizzard. All I’m missing are two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree. In a stroke of genius, I decided to work this to my advantage. For a nominal fee, people are welcomed to come in to my home and view the Christmas pageantry. I even installed a vending machine with animal treats for the petting zoo.
Of course to get the full holiday experience, you have to be able to suspend your disbelief. My kids roam around in their bathrobes and pose as wisemen. I know that’s a stretch. There are no cattle lowing but the dog snores so loud he makes the tinsel vibrate. Admittedly, the halls are more wrecked than decked; however there are always so many house guests I often find myself asking, "What child is this?"
Despite all this I think I pulled off that sense of realism I was going for.
My sister is a professional woman with a very neat and helpful husband. She has no kids, no animals and no tolerance for either. Her house smells clean before you hit the front door. When she comes here she washes her hands often and uses hand sanitizer like sunscreen. After her last visit, she suggested I start getting rid of some animals because, "it’s starting to smell like a stable." To which I responded, "Fa, la, la, la la!" and charged her five bucks.
Linda McCarthy resides in Robbinsville with her husband and three children.

