Yes Virginia, There is a Santa Claus, and He Uses Protection

Oh look, there’s Santa and a candy cane and a French horn, and . . .

What is that background made of? It looks like glittered . . . latex? There’s a little springy coil in all around the  . . .

Oh.

Oh.

That’s just precious.

I sure hope this isn’t second-hand.

Fiddlin’ Angel

This is Mrs. Elfenstein’s favorite ornament, hands down. Every time we put it on the tree, she sings “fiddlin’ angel!” with pure joy.

Angels fiddle. It’s a well-known fact. And this special little lady is fiddlin’ from inside a spectacular, gold, glitter-encrusted cutaway ball. Just as it is in Heaven.

We’re not sure what specifically is on the playlist, but I like to think it’s mostly just variations of Cotton Eyed Joe.

Fraggle Ball!

It’s a ball with Fraggle hair. What else to say?

Snowmen of the Damned

We think these are supposed to be snowmen. The kind of snowmen Nathaniel Hawthorne would have made.

What I do know about them is that I find them unsettling. At initial glance, they seem to be merry enough, despite being Puritans. They’re smiling. What’s not to love?

But then you hang them on the tree and really start looking at them.

You start looking at their eyes. 

Their eyes.

Go into the kitchen. 

It’s ok. 

Everything is fine. 

Go. 

Go now.

That’s it. Get the knife. In the drawer. Get the knife.

No! No! I defy you! Get thee behind me, felt demons . . .

Do the Polka!

This ornament was a gift from a friend enabler who truly understands that we have a problem.
This polka-dotted/frosted ball, in the scheme of things, is fairly tame by Elfenstein standards.

. . . Unless you consider scale.

We have to “hang” this behemoth from a low branch because the tree just can’t support its weight (about the same as a small cat). Mostly, we just set it on the floor and thread a branch through the string at the top. Sadly, we cannot swing it to and fro or tie it in a knot, tie it in a bow.

Thanks for the present! Merry Christmas Awesome, Daddy. Love, Sugar.

Guns Don’t Kill People, Santa Kills People

My first impression of this ornament was that Santa had some binoculars. Oh, ok, so he’s a bird watcher.

Then I noticed the Brawny man shirt and the gold lamé, leopard print vest. Okaaay. And solid gold tie. Weird.

And then I noticed the sawed-off shotgun.

I get it. He’s Big Game Hunter Santa. And I see now that his vest is just poorly-rendered camouflage, but that doesn’t explain the gold lamé unless there are a lot of elk in P-Town nowadays. And how do the reindeer feel about Santa’s little hobby?

And since when does Santa carry a gun?

Um, since for a while now, apparently.

Thanks be to Mrs. Elfenstein for hot-gluing Santa’s trigger arm back on (life in the ornament bin is fraught with danger)!

This May be What Happened to Baby Jane

When we moved from the Farm to our new home, we seem to have misplaced a stash of ornaments. Old Troll is missing, along with the Styrofoam Snowman Family, which is really sad because Wall-Eyed Styrofoam Snowman has served as our tree topper the past three Christmases.  This is our first Christmas in our first new house, and we had to have an Awesome topper for the charmingly wonky tree we bought.
What on earth would Mrs. Elfenstein and I do without Goodwill?

Wall-Eyed Styrofoam Snowman may be lost, but Unamused Angel now stands tall and proud and, apparently, unimpressed, atop our tree.

We aren’t super sure what it is that’s making her so uptight. Maybe it’s her Mrs. Havisham-style gown, or her receding hairline (and at such a young age!). Perhaps the fact that her arms do not bend but only move up and down as a unit. Maybe it’s the constant discomfort of a spiny tree trunk in the, er, Eisenhower Tunnel. . . (cough, cough).

Regardless of her actual botheration, this little lady’s fists are clenched so tight she could make diamonds if we gave her coal. Also assuming we can pry her fingers open. Which we can’t. Because they’re fused to her palms.

 Christmas'll make you want to shoot someone in the face.

What Happened to the W Key?

Nothing says “Christmas” like an ornament celebrating the Tandy 1000 with 16-color CRT monitor. Draped in wire lights and a big red bow, this technological breakthrough is forever memorialized . . . um, there seems to be a key missing from the keyboard . . . and uh, some, uh . . .

On the bright side, red is really festive.

Totally Historically Accurate First Christmas

Baby Jesus in a papoose? Check.
Tiny angel buzzing a teepee? Check.
Color palette created by having Georgia O’Keefe puke all over it? Check Check Check.
Slightly unsettling mixture of Native American culture and Roman Catholicism, given, you know, history? Nervous laughter and Check.

Now, lest you think I am a racist beast and would mock a nativity scene simply for the fact that it is depicting Native Americans, you would be wrong, wrong! I understand that many Native Americans are Christians, and it’s natural to think they would want to make nativity sets that reflect their culture. They do, and that’s fine by me.
This, however, is just generic ceramic nativity scene with Caucasian people colored sort of brownish in stereotypical “Indian” clothing in front of a teepee. Almost none of the features that the magic interwebs tell me consist of an actual Native American creche scene are present: the fox, the bear, and the buffalo; the Handsome Fellow in white; a terrifically ornate crib. There’s just a weird moose and a freaky, tiny, bendy angel squaw.
So anyway, in case I haven’t offended all of the tribes of earth yet, I submit some reasons to love this set:

•  It is marked as a 10-piece set and I only count 8. Nine, if you include the cartoon moose in the background. Wait, is the sheep detachable? Ok, there’s 10, never mind.
• What’s in the box? I’m guessing it isn’t frankincense and myrrh. My vote is for peyote and marijuana.
• Mary looks like she has a sweet pilgrim hat on.
• This little guy

baa?

Thanks be to Kael P. for the submission. Merry Christmas Awesome to you, you handsome devil.

Unicorn Towel

So apparently, a very lucky Ms. Kate received this lovely Christmas unicorn towel in a Yankee swap.

Even mythical magical creatures love Christmas! This plucky little guy stands in a field of poinsettias and ivy and gazes coyly at us, an oversized wreath around his magical neck.

He’s also got some fairly beefy legs.

Unicorns in towel form are not a very common item, and Christmas unicorns even less so. This is a very special item you've got there, Ms. Katie. You should treasure it always. And judging by the grin on Kate’s face (cropped for privacy), she understands she has gained something very precious. Congratulations and Merry Christmas Awesome to you.

Thanks to Kate T. for the pic!  Merry Christmas Awesome to you, too!

p.s. I’m pretty bummed the Fireplace for Your Home version didn't work out, but it’s the thought that counts and the thought was appreciated.

A Face Only Mrs. Claus Could Love

Just look at those blue eyes. Santa must have been a lady killer in his youth. And judging by that nose, a hockey player or a boxer.

Every year we put this up, I like to think that someone crafted an entire tube of Santa face out of clay, and this is just one slice of many. Kind of like Meat Face, but with Santa. And it’s not made of meat. This is a good thing.

From Israel With Love

Sure, this site is all about Christmas, but where would Christmas be without our Jewish friends? It would be without the Baby Jesus, that’s what. Today being the first day of Hanukkah, I thought I would share easily one of Mrs. Elfenstein and my favorites.

It’s a traditional Christmas egg with a Star of David and a very kind message and . . .

- – - and a cactus . . . for some reason.

Thanks, Israel. And Happy Hanukkah Awesome to you!

How Michael Bolton Started My Obsession

I have been asked how I got started collecting odd ornaments. To be fair, I’ve always been prone to collecting odd things, mostly books, but the ornament thing began in 2006. Mrs. Elfenstein and I weren’t yet married, and it was our first Christmas together.

At the time, I was not a big fan of celebrating holidays in general, and was very resistant to getting a tree and decking out the apartment with Christmas bling. The future Mrs. Elfenstein would have none of that, however, and so we got a tree and combed a few thrift stores to find ornaments.

And that was when we found this:

The skies opened, the angels sang, and the Christmas spirit flew up my tuckus like a thunderbolt. I realized that I lived in a world where shiny plastic Christmas ornaments can depict smooth Jewish crooners with curly white afros. I realized that there was a good chance that there is a Styx-themed ornament out there somewhere. All of those $1.00 grab bags in thrift stores and antique shops all have the potential to contain a holiday gem.

And so I say thank you, Michael Bolton, for releasing the 1996 Limited Edition ornament. Those of us who own them feel a special sense of ownership and pride.  And Happy Hanukkah, my friend.

Santa and the Dead Girl

This large placard of an ornament was lovingly crafted with sand beads pasted on a board and edged with red yarn. Kris Kringle leans in over the chair where a little girl who has recently perished lies, lifeless and limp. He waves a doll over her slumped form, perhaps enticing her to rise again like Lazarus. An alternate theory has been posed that the doll is actually a cursed effigy, an instrument of black magic with which Santa strikes down bad children. Either way, Christmas was not merry for poor Alice.

On the first day of Christmas Awesome, my true love gave to me…

Mrs. Elfenstein and I decided to brave the snowstorm to take a road trip to the Habitat for Humanity ReStore and to price out a new sofa today. When we got to the furniture store, though, it was really tiny and pricey and pretentious, and she felt all weird about going in. Then I felt all weird about going in because I knew she felt weird, so we decided to instead hit the nearby Goodwill we had passed on our way in.

Score!

They had 6 to 10 shelves worth of Christmas ornaments. Two Black Santas, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle ornament, and a wasted-looking homemade, felt snowman. Also, there was a baby Jesus, an archangel, and a whole crapload of Wise Men all missing their right arms, all on the same shelf together.

We were able to replace the Pope John Paul II ornament that is curiously missing (along with Old Troll and the styrofoam snowman family – where the heck are they?), which pleased Mrs. Elfenstein immensely, but the crown jewel of the trip was Santa’s Mail Maw:

When we went to check out, the cashier was a kindly lady who declared Santa’s Mail Maw to be “cute” and lovingly placed him in the bag. She seemed unsure whether placing the Pope in Santa’s mouth was OK or not, but then got the Spirit and gleefully announced that “it just makes me so happy; I can put anything I want in his mouth!”

Oh, I know, Goodwill lady, how I know . .