When I was young we used to spend every Thanksgiving in Bucks County Pennsylvania. That was where my Uncle Bob and Aunt Anita used to live. I loved it out there. They lived in a ranch style house on an acre of land that had a little red barn shed in the back for the tractor and horse farm next door.
The drive between New Jersey and Pennsylvania always seemed to take forever as a kid. So before we would leave my Aunt and Uncle's house at the end of the night, my mother would have the three of us kids change into our pajamas. We wore our bunny suits home. You know, the kind that have feet attached to them and the snap across the top? My little sister wore yellow, my brother wore blue and mine was purple.
I loved my bunny suit. It was warm, cozy and complete with a hole for my big toe to stick out because I grew too fast. I remember my brother had a hole in the top of his bunny suit too. I remember because I thought his toe was ugly.
So we would pile into our blue station wagon complete with our Black Labrador, Bonnie in the way back and head home. At this time of year though, we always made one special stop. There is this wonderful little place in Pennsylvania called Peddler's Village and from November through early January they would decorate the entire village with twinkle lights.
It has grown considerably throughout the years, but it still consists of winding cobblestone streets, charming merchant shops and a water mill. The very best part though was the holiday twinkle lights. Every shop, ever window, tree, and ridge pole of a roof was outlined in Christmas lights. It was stunning. I'm sure it still is.
So my parents would stop there on our way home and because it was Thanksgiving night, the place was virtually empty. We would have the entire little village to ourselves. The best part about it was that my parents let us roam around in our pajamas and no shoes because of our bunny feet. As a little kid I can't convey how thrilling the experience was to freely run around the town in nothing by my pajamas and maybe my jacket if it was extra cold.
There would be Christmas music piped out through the loudspeakers and I would run to the little toy store that was lit up and press my face against the glass and stare in at the porcelain dolls and look at them longingly.
My sister and I would skip and shriek with excitement and run to see the gingerbread house display and salivate over the prettiest ones. My parents would walk behind us hand in hand and eventually get lost behind a tree for a moment or two before stepping back out to join us.
Maybe someday I'll have the privlidge of going back there to visit that wonderful place with the twinkle lights, but it won't be quite the same without that bunny suit. ;)
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as it explains everything attached to my memory...
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