Here is the skirt under the tree. We got our tree at the local firehouse. I think that it is perfect! I’m sure that it will start jettisoning needles any second now but I don’t care. I love the smell and somehow it wouldn’t be Christmas without one. My daughter really enjoyed taking all the ornaments out of the boxes and their tissue paper wrappers. It was definitely bittersweet. I got pretty emotional. All the ornaments are worthless toys and glitter really. What makes them special are the memories that you attach to each one. Decorating our tree brought me back to my mother’s trees over the years. Her ornaments and our memories of family times together back when there was still so much promise and a chance to find your place in life. We certainly had our share of unhappy family times and unhappy holiday times but at least back then my brother and I could look at each other and think, someday we’re getting out of here. How can it be that I’m the only one who made it?
Sorry about that. I wanted this to be a happy post. This story will cheer us up. My mom often finished her tree with icicles. You know those little thin strips of mylar that you kind of throw at the tree? It adds a lot of glitter to the whole thing. When I grew up and starting getting my own tree I used to use icicles too until I got my dogs. They were constantly stealing it off the tree and eating it. I’m sure that it wasn’t good for them but it wouldn’t have bothered me so much except that it came out the other end intact. Our walks would often involve me having to pull long crap covered icicles out of their butts. Thus ended the era of the icicle and I’ve never gone back.