On Dancer and Prancer, Rusty Ol' Bastard and Vixon...

Across the street from Christmas Paradisio, (also known to the unimaginative as St. Nick's because they rely on the name the owner's gave it), is a little metropolis known as Littleton.      

Littleton's origins can be traced back to the "Pikes Peak" gold rush of 1859 as merchants and and farmer poured into the region for their own piece of the golden pie by providing goods for the growing population that was flooding the nearby Denver/Auraria region searching for gold...

It quickly became apparent that the arid plains would present a not insignificant problem for farmers that tried to homestead the area and it would be necessary to somehow find a way to get a series of waterways to the fields. Engineers were hired to meet this need and among these engineers was Richard Sullivan Little and with him came his little wife. 

They filed a home stake and by 1962 they had a nice little farm.  In 1972 the pair filed a plat that subdived that property into the village of Littleton and by the time Colorado was granted statehood, (1876) there were schools, a hotel and other signs of civilization in the area. In 1890, 245 residents of the area of Littleton were present all voting for incorporation.  

     And this is where we are now! 

Boasting that Littleton is one of the "few remaining historic shopping districts on the Front Range" one cannot help think that what one considers historic in the U.S. today is anything older than oneself. Nevertheless...

The home decor store where we are at this point in our festivities is on Historic Main Street of Littleton. We have arrived a bit early (intentionally) because in a few hours the streets will be teeming with the kind of holiday cheer that would drive the Grinch from his cave and down into the streets to do whatever he could to disrupt the Little wingding.

And Wingding it is! When the sun sets and the streets are darkened at some time appointed by a city appointee, Father Christmas, a.k.a. St. Nick, a.k.a. Father Christmas, a.k.a. the Jolly Ol' Elf., a.k.a Santa Claus is chauffeured down streets lined with cider drinking multitudes that are cheering him on to new heights of glory.  

And as he rolls westward, tree-lined streets are magically illuminated along his path and the crowds follow him afoot down the bustling avenue while carolers are singing, venders are vending and the normally staid streets of Littleton (the town generally closes down in the early evening) are all abuzz in a hubbub of activity. Santa and his entourage finally makes their way to end of the street and he clambers onto the stage cunningly disguised as a Trailer of an Eighteen Wheeler.  

Here he pitches a proud pontification that is so pro-USA-go-God-rally-the-troops-we're-all-good-Republicans that it finally drove us away from the festivities some years ago despite the charm of the lights, Santa's arrival, the wassail, good cheer, etc. 

So while it is still quiet and light and the holiday cheer is relegated to a nonpolitical, nonreligious, mostly green tone, we walk down to our next stop, leaving the Rusty Ol' Bastard (ROB for short) aka our reindeer parked for a while.

As we look over items here, this little statuette caught my eye and I nearly purchased it as a none tree ornament-- however something about the tot's eyes was a bit distracting and I opted out of the purchase when it became apparent all the statues were the same. A little eerie, don't you think?? 

As one gazes at the bobbles and trinkets on these branches, 

one can almost imagine the Grinch's dissatisfied yowlings at such shimmering finesses. 

"Why it would put a heart that had grown 

three sizes that day to the test," he might moan.

A final destination is another everyday name, but with plenty of Holiday cheer. 

For those concerned with color coordination... they've got you covered. 

Father Christmas's that look like they might spring to life... they've got those too. 

They've got the trappings, trimmings and boxes and tags.

there is tinsel and ribbons, stickers and signs.

And now... now we merely await to see what made it home and onto our tree!