For the first time in my life I’ve erected a Christmas tree in my home in November. I don’t know what to think or if it even counts because it’s plastic (which I hate). But still. I’m away in Brisbane this week, and then my housemate Bec is away the week after so it was this weekend or halfway through December, by which point the effort or putting up a tree would be superseded by the pain of having to take it down again two weeks later…
It started, as practicality dictates, with the lights.
The lights are twinkly good fun to start off with…
But then this happens…
And quickly you realise, like not having to clean up glass you dropped on the kitchen floor while barefoot, having a parent around to take care of things is one of the great joys of childhood you never appreciated at the time.
Moving right along.
I bought some sparkly new decorations this year to make up for not being able to go to a farm, argue for far too long over the perfect tree, have an axe man chop it down, somehow get covered in sap, lug said deliciously fragrant tree inside and attempt to wrangle it into a stand meanwhile dealing with pine needles for the best part of December. Such joy.
Bambi’s dad came to the party:
I see avian decorations are big this year:
It must be because Christmas is such a hoot. Heh.
And because every Christmas movie ever says so, we put the star on last.
Just imagine Michael Buble’s Christmas CD playing underneath this post.
I think it looks pretty decent for an oddly emaciated tree!
Nothing beats sitting in the living room with the lights off and just staring.
Have you put up your tree yet? When will you?