For years Little Big Boss (LBB) (13) and That Dude (TD) (11) have bemoaned our lack of holiday inflatables in a neighborhood awash with them. I at last relented this year—first at Halloween, then at Christmas—desperate to bring them surprise and delight in this tough year. (“I shopped my way out. Bought up everything I could see…”) The Halloween Jack-o’-lanterns were no trouble at all, functioning flawlessly from the start. The JOY, however, has been more troublesome. It runs on a timer, scheduled to arise in triumph at the same time the outdoor lights turn on. But LBB and I (apparently) unwittingly set it up too close to the house.
Invariably at least one of the letters gets caught under the bottom of the bump-out each day, and just struggles there sadly—as if the Wicked Witch of the West had survived Dorothy’s house falling on her—until I remember to set matters to right. Since mid-December, we’ve displayed “J,” “O,” “Y,” “JY,” “JO,” and—of course—the 2020-perfect “OY” for some amount of time each day. Prince claimed, “There is joy in repetition,” and indeed, I have repeatedly fixed our “JOY,” every blessed day since we set it up. Except for Christmas itself, when we left it down due to stormy conditions in the forecast. No JOY for Christmas for us! The day after Christmas, I found giant chunks of ice had formed all over it in its deflated state on the ground. I peeled the glaciers off as carefully as I could, fingers crossed that I wouldn’t tear apart our JOY during its seasonal debut. Fortunately, I did not.
Every time I have thought to reposition the inflatable and put a stop to this nonsense, it has been too windy or too dark or too cold. And then the thought leaves my head again until it is too windy or too cold or too dark. At this point, as we contemplate when to start packing up the decorations, I am genuinely curious every evening to find out what mischief JOY has gotten into this time: Which letters will be trapped under the house and need freeing? Which one will be wrapped around itself and need untwisting? Most importantly, will JOY ever arise triumphant without help? Um, no. Because joy takes work, work that I rediscover each day I am willing to do. (Work that may or may not include finding JOY in another location next year.)
Brownie Stew 