So, this weekend marks the resurrection of our Christmas tree. A few years back, after practically choking the Electolux to death, Hubby reluctantly agreed to purchase a pre-lit perma-evergreen.
Tho' I'm wildly anxious to witness our home's transformation, I tend to view the process almost like one does a root canal. You'd guess after all these years, I'd relax. Yet I can't shake the misguided notion that our display should resemble a store-front show-stopper. Highly improbable, given my chromosome-lacking design skills.
(You see, this season marks but 4 years together as husband and wife .. and yes, the individual who formerly co-signed Hubby's income tax returns is an artist.)
It's become a joking matter now, but 6 years ago when I was a relative "newbie" at the resort -- and no-one knew quite what to do with me -- my boss assigned me the task of decorating not one, but 4 very public Christmas displays. I'll never forget the kind-hearted engineer who responded to my call for a ladder, and found me close to tears: "Oh Glenn, I'd rather be scrubbing toilets!" I wailed. He just smiled: "Well, that could be arranged." I had to laugh. (And tho' it didn't turn out as awful as I feared, it should be noted that I've never again been asked to decorate our Lobby tree!)
A few flashbacks ...
Although my folks never fell for the aluminum, color-wheel phenomena, we did succumb to "pink angel hair" ... that I loved, but left us scratching our arms for days!
Most poignant? My Real Distress after spotting the near-frozen, homely specimens not chosen, leaning forlornly against the 7/Eleven on Christmas Day. (50-some years later, I'm still prone to get a lump in my throat.)
For a period prior to our coming together, my bachelorette condo sported a beautiful, albeit small, Hallmark specimen. Uncrate n' plug-er in. No fuss, no muss ... pass the eggnog!
For reason that are still unclear, the olde-family ornaments from my mother's home disappeared shortly after her death -- together with the tree skirt she stitched with such love. And for that reason, a few years ago I studied eBay offerings and discovered the Perfect skirt, described as having been "loved by our family for generations." What a pedigree, eh?!
Oh, I know in my head everything will come together. We'll "ooh" and "aah" and reassure one another that this year's tree is the best ever. The ornaments won't match; there's no theme ... but I like to think it represents the best of our borrowed and blended family. In fact, I might wander over to eBay now, to try and discover another "previously loved" bauble needing a good home!