Christmas stuff

 

I spent the day yesterday decorating, then cleaning up the house after decorating. Real pine trees are messy things to drag inside, but we still persist with the tradition. 

And we've wrestled some enormous trees into this living room over the years, until finally realizing that a nice 6-foot Douglas Fir is the perfect size. 

The process goes like this: first we set the tall ladder up, then John goes in the attic and hands down the big tubs of decorations, then he puts the tree in the stand, then he disappears into the basement (usually watching football) until it's safe to come upstairs and see if Christmas has arrived. Then we do the whole thing in reverse in January.

 

No "Christmas lite" this year. I went all out, since we'll be in Seattle for the holidays. 

Yes, someday I'd like to spend a Christmas in Twisp, looking out at the peaceful snow and deer along the river. But to be honest, the winter drive is daunting and it's pretty nice staying safe and sound here at home, surrounded by our familiar treasures. The family will come to us.

What makes something a treasure, anyway? It doesn't have to have practical value, just some little thing like a decoration that's been in the family for decades, with stories attached, something stored in tissue oh-so-carefully, with no meaning to anyone else. Or maybe an ornament picked up on vacation, or a prize plucked from an after-Christmas sale bin, or a special gift from a friend.

Or how about this gem of a candle holder that I found in the bottom of a dirty box at a yard sale? It polished up real nice.