A Change of Venue....

Why do I bother?  I make plans for Christmas decorations.  Including mini places to have parties every year. 

This year, I was going to finish Santa's Workshop...I got some of it done.

I got sidetracked a couple of times and then this morning, Tessie flounced into the workroom and announced, " I am moving  back to the townhouse.  No way am I having a party in a one room cottage with an attic!"

She went and took the key away from Cordelia by force.  It was not a pretty scene.  She shoved the key to Cordelia's Nine Dollar Dollhouse in her hand and told her unceremoniously to beat it. "It's MY house and I want it back!".

Fortunately, Cordelia was forced into the trade in the first place and wanted her old place back....She was just too afraid to ask Tessie for it.

Tessie then "borrowed" furniture from Eskiaga and a few others and set the party in motion....Every year it seems to start earlier and earlier and finish later and later...The Twelve Days of Christmas has nothing on Tessie and company.  They called out for pizza and bug beer and let everyone know that the party was going strong.

The living room would only hold seven + a couple of animals, so the party spread.

She sat up a second table in the bedroom and the historic crowd got together up there.

Since Spike has been around a hundred and some years, he gets along with that group well.

This year, Walter even got invited.  He cut short his golf game and Tessie zapped him as he came in the back door.

She sent him up stairs to the workroom to have his fortune told.  Zofi was getting bored. 

The only other person up there was Engelbert.  He announced that he was going on strike and staying in the bubble bath until I finished his clothes.  I wouldn't object, but he took Spike Junior with him....

And as for the roof garden?  Tessie is making a little money on the side.  She rented it out to Santa.  Nice cozy office and a comfortable place to wait until Christmas eve.  

I am going to have to talk to Rocky Raccoon.  He will have to stop serving Santa mulled wine at least twenty four hours before flight time.

Now I have to go clean up the mess from the cottage that Santa refuses to go near....No raccoons serving drinks over there.

Ho! Ho! Ho! See you tomorrow.