I challenge you, dear readers, to find a blogger who has put their Christmas tree up later than me. In fact, I challenge you to find ANY person (minus my Jewish friends) who has put their tree up later than me…. We put the tree up on Saturday, December 22nd.
I do deserve a little credit this year as one time we actually hauled a tree off of the Home Depot lot on December 26th and paid $.25 for it. Those were the years when I would eye the trees on the curb, looking for the one with the most tinsel on it.
This tree is full of glass ornaments that I have collected over the years. I love birds and there are a lot of glass birds on this tree. I have ornaments from the 1950’s given to me by my mother and vintage ornaments from my husband’s family as well. It is a true hodge-podge of all things pretty. Nothing matches. It is just a collection of wooden beads, glass ornaments, icicles, traditional angels, and stars.
The wooden beads are a nod to the German influence of my mother’s family. They are bright and cheerful and every year I drape them around the tree. There are quite a few flute players on this tree, but none so realistic as the one in the red dress, almost identical to a red dress I once wore in a recital years ago. This flute lady was a gift from my mother-in-law.
The tree itself is a live Douglas Fir that I got from the local farmer’s market. It is still very fresh and drinking daily. I love the way it smells.
The angel is similar to the one I had growing up and reminds me of family. For me, the Christmas tree has never been about how it is decorated, but about the history behind the things it is decorated with. Each ornament given as a gift, each hand-made, hand-carved or handed down piece brings back a memory as I hang it on the tree. The very act of decorating the tree is the point: the music, the carols, and the family, all together. It is a celebration.
Maybe next year I will do something crazy like decorate the tree with pink flamingos. But for now, I am satisfied with this one, decorated with memories.
© copyright 2012 Mariam d’Eustachio.