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I'll save you the details of how I had to wait half an hour in line at
KMart to buy a 4.5 foot artificial tree. I'll spare you the narration of
my harrowing run-in at the gas station in the rain. Let's just start when
I'm safely home, breathless from lugging groceries, my backpack and a big
tree box into the house. Aron is sick, sitting on the sofa, and I
gleefully show him the tree. He's excited, as he loves holiday
decorations and stuff like that. I was worried he'd be against it
(Sharon, who is also of Jewish origin, frowned a lot at Tracy's efforts
last year, but that may be more because we just didn't like Tracy).
Anyhow, I needn't of worried; he was enthusiastic and announced this was
his first Xmas tree. Note: I use Xmas loosely. I am not one of the Christian revelers, merely a pagan with family traditions that I love to uphold. So, this is my third Xmas out here, but the first year I've had my Xmas stuff to put up. I have lovely decorations: lots of burgandy and dark green bows, "cranberry" garlands and gold filigree ribbon for the tree, and very nice ornaments. Mom started a tradition in our family where "Santa" gave Holly and I a nice ornament in our stocking every year. Thus, I have at least 25 very nice Hallmark (or silver or crystal, from the late teen years when I decided I was too sophisticated for the cartoonish, cute Hallmark ornaments, even if some of them are now worth hundreds of dollars) ornaments. With the trim I chose, I have a very Victorian looking tree, especially since I prefer white lights to colored ones. I started throwing the tree together, not even looking at the instructions more than once. It's a little lopsided, but I'm not redoing it now. By the time Buffy started, an hour later, I had the tree up, the lights and garland strewn over it, the green bow tied to the top and a few choice ornaments handing on the branches. I unwrapped and displayed my Nutcracker doll and my white deer. Jen asked what the story was behind the deer; so, I told her: The Story of the White DeerWhen we were little, Holly and I used to play with our barbies under the tree. The brightly wrapped packages could be stacked in various configurations to make apartments and beds and houses for the dolls. We incorporated some of the more appropriate ornaments into the play. My favorite toy was a white deer that Mom would use as a mantle decoration next to her gingerbread house. It had a fuzzy white coat, and was just the right size for the dolls to ride. By the end of our childhoods, the body of the deer had been rubbed bare, and it was no longer snow white. A few years ago, Mom gave Holly and I each our own white deer (with glitter, which the other never had) for Xmas. I now keep mine very clean and take good care of it, in hopes that someday it, too, will know the pleasure of little grubby hands forcing barbie legs over it and marching it around until the glitter is gone and the fuzz is bare. Is there anything cozier than a lit Xmas tree in the corner of a darkened room? I know we won't have snow outside, but the rain is almost as good, and the house is certainly cold in the winter without the heater. I stayed up way too late last night, sipping tea and just gazing at the tree, feeling warm and happy and just a little bit melancholy. I wish I had more family out here... | ||
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