2000-12-24
Dear Diary:

So we brought our goofy Christmas tree in last night, wrestled it into the tree stand and managed to get it into a position closely approximating upright without too much cursing.

It wasn't until we strung the lights today that we realized that we had cut the leader branch at the top of the tree too far down. It was so thick that our candle decoration that has topped the tree from time immemorial would not fit.

My husband makes his living as a carpenter. We have more money than I want to think about tied up in a wide variety of woodworking tools. Were any of these tools used to shave or whittle down the thick leader branch?

No, do not adjust your set.  The ornament is out of alignment, not the picture, eh. Oh no, the spousal unit used the handyman's secret weapon: duct tape. Yes, the crowning glory of our Christmas tree is duct taped into position. The duct tape, as you might notice, has stretched some and said decoration now leans drunkenly to the right. Close enough, say I, close enough. But then at this moment I'm leaning somewhat drunkenly to the right, having indulged in a little holiday libation. Or two. Or perhaps three. But then, who's counting, eh?

My daughter and her sweetie came home early in the afternoon. Paul left the skidoo down at his mom's where he was helping her get set up for the family Christmas feast, so the kids walked the quarter mile uphill to our home. Did I use the verb walk? I think the verb "wheezed" gives you a more adequate picture. Hmph. City slickers.

Jess and her sweetie Christian in front of our Christmas tree.  She's holding the first decoration she ever made at school, it's dated 1985. So here are our Christmas tree mug shots. First from the front, with my daughter and her sweetie who did the honours.

In this household we feel the secret to decorating a skimpy Christmas tree is to throw so much stuff on it that the basic tree itself is lost in the clutter. It took the daughter's boyfriend, who is from France and has rather subdued good taste, a while to accept what was happening here.

Our Christmas tree mantra in this household is "nothing exceeds like excess." I think of our tree as the Tammy Faye Baker of the Christmas tree world--so over the top that you can't take your eyes off it, even though you're embarrassed to be in the same room. We are proudly, deeply tacky.

Yep, this tree has so few branches you can count the books in the bookcase behind it. It's only when you see the sideways mug shot that you get the idea of how few branches this tree really has.

Nevermind.

I love it to bits anyhow.

Happy holidays, eh.

--Marn

Old Drivel - New Drivel


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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

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2000, 2001, 2002 Marn. This is me, dagnabbit. You be you.