I love to decorate for holidays. I get into full Martha Stewart mode. But what's in my head, and heart doesn't exactly match what I have the skills to do.
Growing up our apartment had high ceilings and the tree would touch the top. Nine feet, maybe. That tree is what my head wants. But reality bites. My current home has maybe 7 foot ceilings, so the most practical tree is 6 feet. I used to drag my brother Henry out with me to the field and cut down a tree. Well, he cut, I held. He drug. He hoisted it to the car. I tied. He lugged it into the house and manhandled it in submission. I sawed off the end. As he got older the tree got smaller. But it was still a good four and a half-five feet.
Henry died about 18 months ago. I was left to my own Christmas devices.
Last year, my international students helped pick out a tree and the four of us put it up. It was small, maybe four feet, but cute. It was also decorated by three people who were clueless—a Hindu, a Buddhist, and a Christian from Africa—which made it even more special. They had so much child-like wonder.
This year it was just me. I ended up with a tiny tree. I could have handled a little bigger, but then it wouldn't fit on a table. It would have looked dumb on the floor. So a tiny tree it is. I also bought it from a lot. I don't remember ever getting a lot tree.
Fifty-six years old and I put up my first tree, by myself. I took a pix with and without the flash and they look equally horrible. Can't see the ornaments.
Growing up my mother decorated every inch of the house. As a teen I thought it was tacky. Now I miss it. I know that it was a lot of work for her, and for all of us. It took a month to put up and a day to take down.
One thing she had was a ceramic nativity set. I put it out every year till she died. I hated it. Everything was white. I put it out because I thought she made it. I was wrong. My sister Pat made it. The person who makes the Grinch look like a happy creature. I promptly lost it. Been looking for 7 or 8 years now. Didn't seem like Christmas without the nativity. Which is ironic for me to say since I'm not religious. In the meantime Bonnie started buying me a
Willow Tree set. Piece by piece for my birthday. I always joked that I'd find mom's set when I had all the pieces. This year she completed the set of the main pieces. This year I found it. Hiding in plain site in the attic.
I've done little other decorating this year. School was just crazy this year. No time. I know people who have scaled back and love it. I don't. I miss it.
Today was the Peeps Fest 5K. I beat Bonnie for a change. But only because she's a little out of shape from having multiple surgeries over the past year or two.
Also there were some people from my program. (Sarah, who wrote the book we are testing, is #560, above.) I walked as fast as I could and came in at a pathetic 52 minutes. I was the last one from that group to cross the finish. My walking coach came in at 37. I dream about 45. Hell, I dream about 48 or 49 consistently. (Boring dreams, huh?)
Lydia said I couldn't bitch about my time in my blog. I did just fine. So I'm not going to whine. Bonnie and Kathy came in at about 54, and Lydia and Dawn came in at 61ish.
