Maybe 20 years ago, my stepmother started putting together a Christmas village. She never cared anything about it all being the same brand, so the scale wasn’t at all consistent from building to building, which was and is an irritant for someone as anal-retentive as I about such things. A villager who’s in scale at the pub is 14 feet tall at the stable.
Yeah. So.
One year I made a custom addition to it. In front of my carefully constructed fence, physical plant, and guard shack, a scary and authentic-looking sign said Dickens Village Nuclear Power Plant. I made the cooling towers from Pringles cans. It was fun. It was in there a day or so before anyone noticed.
Ever since I’ve occasionally wondered whether there are enough warped souls with enough disposable income to make a viable business of undesirable fixtures for Christmas villages. Think of all the fun you could have with such a concept! Snowy Hills Federal Penitentiary (maybe with an optional halfway house for a different block). Dickens Village Title Loan. Woodville Water Treatment Plant. Row after row of mini-storage buildings. A prostitution accessory pack: three hookers, a pimp, and a red shroud for one of the light bulbs. DUI checkpoints. Landfills. Slaughterhouses. I mean, really, just think of anything you wouldn’t enjoy seeing around town, and think of how hilarious it’d be rendered in festive, hand-painted porcelain!
So on the way home from church this morning, Lea and I were talking about her stained glass avocation. She’s really getting good. Maybe she’ll actually let me post some photos soon. Anyway, we started discussing project ideas, and of course I went to the same demented place. What don’t you want a picture of? Morbidly, I thought of one called “First Strike,” depicting a mushroom cloud in a metropolis. How about one of an enormous mall? A clear-cut hillside with a logging truck taking the last trees out in one corner? A full ashtray next to a dirty highball glass?
“It’s a sick world, and I’m a happy guy.” – Larry Reeb
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bigdave on 
Bo on 
BamaDan on 
Jack Eason on 
You know, your birthday is right around the corner. Heh heh heh.
My sister would put those in her village, I’m positive. How about the successful bow-hunters on the way home with their bagged deer?
You’d have to have the poor house and the mill where children toil 18 hours day – perhaps post the hours on the door? How about the scalpers selling tickets to see Mr. Dickens himself? I LOVE this Christmas village idea. Hmm. How about some Python-related warpness?
Like a giant wooden rabbit parked at the gate?
It’s gotta have a bail bond place. I’m thinking a dog pound would be a nice Christmasy touch, too, dontcha think?
I’ll never be able to look at my New England Village the same again. Thanks a lot, Bo!