Who’s at home under the tree?

You haven’t seen decorations until you’ve seen Denise Harris’ living room. Presents are not what Denise Harris and husband Bob Cederwall have under their Christmas tree. Try a European-style village with working ski lift on powder-white slopes, encircled by two roaring train sets, a fair, a circus, pine trees and many, many little people.

You haven’t seen decorations until you’ve seen Denise Harris’ living room.

Presents are not what Denise Harris and husband Bob Cederwall have under their Christmas tree.

Try a European-style village with working ski lift on powder-white slopes, encircled by two roaring train sets, a fair, a circus, pine trees and many, many little people.

It wasn’t always so populous. Looking critically at the village one Christmas, Harris said to a party guest, “There aren’t enough people in it.”

“That’s because there isn’t a place to drink!” replied the friend. So, Harris added a small tavern to the display, and the population rose.

The village panorama is truly a labor of love. Harris started the display 15 years ago when she dusted off some old model houses she’d built as a child.

The 12-foot Christmas tree that towers above lacks not an ounce less of Christmas spirit itself. It’s lit up, well, like a Christmas tree with ornaments of every size and shape imaginable – from things that fly to fruit and vegetables, frogs, circuses and home and hearth.

The detail in the village is transfixing.

“Everyone that comes in, the first thing they do is lie on the ground,” Harris said. “That’s really fun to watch. They haven’t seen the detail. You tell them there are five penguins, and they’re (looking) for 10 minutes.”

Santa Claus waits in a candy cane-fenced yard for kids. Nearby, a creche with the Holy Family sits under palm trees salvaged from a cocktail. The three Wise Men – once action figures with guns – now bear gifts for Jesus instead.

A Christmas market of outdoor stalls, some designed by Harris herself, offer baked goods, miniature figurines and even a faux German “Baggentossen,” or bag toss.

Even if the village doesn’t have a name, it has a life of its own.

Behind the hot dog stand, the owner feeds stray dogs. On the street corner, a tiny prostitute converses with a priest, and down the road a lion escapes the circus. Atop the Styrofoam mountain, a tiny nude model sits in a cabin, while the artists around her paint landscapes.

The display takes Harris a full three days to set up each year.

“I love it when people say, ‘I hate putting up the Christmas tree, it’s so much work,’” she says, with an eye-rolling grin.