Oysterville is known for its picket fences.  They march around the borders of many of the properties here, delineating the ‘mines’ from the ‘yourses’ in a variety of styles and heights.  Some are freshly painted and pristine-looking; some are swaybacked and lurch precariously in each windstorm; some are covered in gauzy moss; and several cascade with delicate Dorothy Perkins roses in summer.  As far as I know, though, none has ever lit up our dark December nights.  Until now.

Last year, about this time, our neighbor Jim, who lives several fences north of us, had a terrible fall.  He was on a ladder, trimming a tree branch I believe, and a fall resulted in a broken pelvis and all sorts of other horrible complications. Christmas was pretty grim and then there were months in the hospital and rehab facility.  It took most of the year, but Jim says he is now “as good as new.”

Obviously, when it came time to begin the Christmas decorating this year, festooning the outside perimeter of their two-story house wasn’t even a remote part of the plan.  Thoughts about tall ladders were off the table, mixed metaphors notwithstanding.  Their clever alternative was to drape the lights along the pickets of their west and northwest fence line. Fabulous!

It’s such a cheery, ‘Oysterville Salute’ to the holidays.  Nyel and I are already talking about how we can piggy-back on their idea next year.  This year, it seems appropriate that those glowing fence lights should be all theirs!  Happy Holidays, Jim and Anne!