If a tree falls in the forest…
We are in the midst of decorating for Christmas, much like most everyone else I know.
Normally, I am anxious to get this stuff up early. In fact, last night Brian & I went looking through past posts for fun and found this one from July 2007 where I was chomping at the bit to put up a tree. This year though…I don’t know what it is. I just can not get motivated.
I love it – don’t get me wrong – but I think I just need a finger snappy thing happening for me. Our house looks like a disaster zone, except, instead of dust and dirt, its boxes and pine needles and glitter everywhere, including my hair, which is a real pain in the doopah (that’s polite-speak for ass). I’m looking forward to having the decorating all done so I can mop my floors and know that nothing will be stuck to the bottom of my socks as I walk from my couch to my coffee pot. You take on great risk of personal injury if you come over in the next 72 hours.
Below, we were trying to figure out which tree was biggest. It ended up being more of a beauty pageant than anything. Does the prettier tree go where we see it most & has the most ornaments? Or, with less stuff on it so we see the pretty-ness? No one cares but me. I acknowledge that.
Since we don’t currently do “pre-lit” perennials, Brian took on lighting responsibilities and discovered a hidden talent he had been suppressing all these years; he is an excellent tree-lighter. This is great news, because I hate that job. He says he learned from the best, and he did – my mom. She is the tree-light-master. You will not see a cord anywhere on her tree (But I can’t prove it because she isn’t putting a tree up this year. Or so she says.)
While Brian was hard at work on the lights with Christmas music crankin, the girls were making every attempt to stay up past their bedtime on the last night of Thanksgiving Vacation. They came in and began dancing on whatever bit of floorspace they could find. I just sat there watching them (and taking pictures as unobtrusively as I could). The cranky-ness that had overtaken me because my house was (is) in such disarray melted away in that moment.
And this is part of the preparation; the mess. My girls don’t seem to mind it too much, and although I felt like I could freeze right up based on sensory overload, they just giggled and danced their way through it.
And it was wonderfully contagious.
I have a lot to learn from them…