Trimming the tree
The caption for this photo: “Why I did not put up a Christmas tree this year.*” Consternation followed, however, after this grave decision because, don’t you see, no tree equals no Christmas ornaments.
A few years back, when I moved into my own apartment and decided that henceforth I would be getting and decorating my own Christmas tree, my mom sent with me a box of all my very own Christmas ornaments. These are the ornaments she has been collecting for me since the day I was born … some have “1975″ and “1976″ etched on the bottom, others are more recent as I’ve acquired a few ornaments probably every year I’ve been alive.
There are Mickey Mouses and Goofys from our trips to Disneyland and Disneyworld. There are half a dozen French horn ornaments — I used to play up through college. There’s my favorite angels on clouds collection. But my most prized ornament? I must have made it in Montessori school when I was only five (or younger) … it’s a piece of dough, this round cookie shaped thing, painted with a yellowy-gold paint (most likely Tempera). A little hook drilled through the top kept in hanging on my family’s tree in a most prominent location. God, was it ugly. And I think a few years ago the dough actually started to rot.
This year I will only have fond memories of the ornament. And next year, I’ll get a tree again. So tell me, what do you hang on your tree?
* Wondering how the hell the tree thing happened? My apartment is a bit dry in the winter, and I did happen to leave it without water for oh, ten days or so … if I’m not responsible enough to take care of a tree, how could I even consider an actual live pet?
Better think first about sending that sexy email. (If you can find a copy of the email, let me know: for running rampant across the Internet, I sure as hell can’t find it.)
Leave a comment: