I'm not huge on Christmas. I take that back: I practice the faith and I think the man, whose birthday we are recognizing, deserves a great big "For he's a jolly good", for sure.
So I don't mean Christmas. I mean Christmas. Doesn't sound right, does it? For a crafter like me? I should have, oh, a few tree skirts crocheted from recycled bubble wrap or somesuch to show off. Not really. I don't get my holly jollies from jolly holly and the rest of it.
We don't put up the tree until very close to Christmas Eve, so that the tree is as fresh as possible, because we light real candles on the thing come Christmas Eve. It is about the worst fire hazard imaginable, but, ah, just gaze once upon a tree with real beeswax candles burning and you will understand.
We purchased our tree today. Pretty slim pickings on the tree lot. I pride myself on having had some pretty odd looking trees over the years. This year's tree is especially funny. It's a bit leaning and a bit fat, like an eccentric auntie that has been at the rum punch and asks much too personal questions. The tree lot guy gave me 50% off the tree without my even asking. Nobody wants the drunken auntie of a tree? No worries, we'll make sure she makes it home safely. And thank you for the discount.
You funny tannenbaum.
Well, if I wasn't much for one for decorating this day, mother nature did a fine job after the rains.