I broke Santa’s sleigh today, and knocked at least six reindeer legs off in the process. It cannot be fixed because the parts that broke exploded when they hit the floor, and we can only find half of the missing fragments. Duncan and I crawled around with phone flashlights, ran long skewers under the TV stand to see if any of the lost legs were there, and finally took the tree skirt off and shook it.
The ornament was at least sixty years old, so fragility is expected. I was changing a light in the Christmas village, the one in the white house, and had placed Santa et al. on the bookcase. I must have set it at an angle, because as I started to move away, the ornament crashed to the floor. I heard the pieces fly.
It was my favorite, so tiny and old. It balanced just right on the roof and gable of the white house, just as if Santa was taking off in flight. He was, of course, in a way, just not so magical in the end.