It used to be that I refused to start celebrating Christmas until closer to the date....but that was back when time didn't fly by as quickly as it does now. In recent years I've realized that if I want time to enjoy the music and the decorating without feeling crazed the entire time, I need to start earlier...and thus, although I used to think it awful....we start the weekend after Thanksgiving
My friend Kathleen tried to get me to get our Christmas tree before Thanksgiving. The kind of tree we both like, the old fashioned Balsalms (which are also $19.97 at Prairie Gardens) seem to get shorter every year so if you don't go shopping right away the tall ones are all gone. The boys flatly refused to get a Christmas tree before Thanksgiving and I couldn't really fault them. So yesterday we trotted right over and got two wonderful tall trees.....one for the living room and one for the dining room as per usual! Then I have to pick out my annual new tree for the mantel. Owen found the winner this year. And then of course I always get sucked into letting them each get a new ornament....so it all adds up despite the cheap trees but I, like my father was, a sucker for Christmas.
Leo is the keeper of the Christmas gene in our family. My sweet curmudgeon cheerfully came downstairs to help his father dig the boxes of trees for the mantel out of the basement. The boys carefully unpacked them and I shouted out who had given them to me. Judi started the tradition and many are from her, then my friend Eileen gave me many (including the house favorite Ikea tree) for years...and there's a delightful red one from Kathleen, an amazing pipecleaner one from Gail, and who know what other ones I'm forgetting.
Leo also carefully unpacked and put up the advent calendar that their Aunt Judi gave them. The deal was that SHE was going to always send the present for it damn it! Well, we will trot out today and try to find some, in her memory. Judi was particularly good at it though.
So my mantel is set and I am happy now.
And a holiday nod to East Nashville, because the trees have outgrown the mantel there is now an outpost on the receiver where the Rod Picott birdhouse sits, and we listen to Tom Mason's Pirate Christmas (note: his slide guitar Christmas album is also wonderful....in fact we had that long before we'd ever met him) as we admire it all.
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