a little tree

There once was a pretty little Christmas tree in a pretty little yellow house

And the little tree was happy. 

The little tree was also cute and practical ... and portable

have tree, will travel

And then there was a pretty little tree in a pretty round house

Hello, Kitty!

And the little tree was happy.

Then the little, portable, happy tree moved to the beach! Who wouldn't love the beach?

We have a piper down! I repeat, the piper is down."

Meanwhile, back at the castle...

Construction was underway, with close supervision

Our village was a little smaller this year, but change is good!

looking promising, kids! And those jammies are winning

The final result was stunning, a triumph of architecture and confection

Let's see the other side, shall we?

why so glum?

2 minutes later....

Oh dear

Well, let's see how the tree made out

A pretty little tree in a pretty little room, fulfilling its Christmas destiny

And then the pretty little tree went on the move one last time (because I always change rooms. always.) and having fulfilled its destiny, the little tree lost its lustre, and its balance, and its gumption. 

but the little tree maintained its charm right up til the bitter end, when it was unceremoniously abandoned on a beachfront balcony

The End. 

flashback friday: dear santa

I'm only recycling this post because it's the best thing that ever was. I'm super duper extra ultra nostalgic this Christmas, and there is nothing in the world that sparks my holiday spirit as much as this list my boy made a million (aka eight. only EIGHT) years ago, back when we all still had our innocence: 

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 5, 2008

Dear Santa

At Costco, the Christmas season starts sometime just before Halloween. I find it amazingly irritating to listen to piped in carols and skirt past giant inflatable snowfamily menageries, especially when it's 80 degrees outside. It dampens the spirit of Christmas, this pressure to start shopping, get it done, buy more.

At home, the kids are bombarded with huge glossy catalogues and a constant barrage of tempting commercial promises. They always make a list for Santa that generally represents the toys promoted in whichever dozen commercials have been most recently viewed.

Next year my boy will be 10. This could be our last year for magic, the last year that his Christmas list will be submitted with the trembling hope of expectation and wonder, and the image of its recipient's careful consideration of each request.

You can see the care that my boy took care with his list this year. He handed this to me and said: "I don't expect to get everything on this". It is just so quintessentially him - and everychild.

My small heart grew three sizes that day.

2008

Merry, Merry!

Merry Christmas, everyone! Hope the day is great, and that Santa was good to you. Here is a little peek into our obligatory pre-Christmas hoopla:

To counteract the recent cat overlording

Strolling the lights is our Christmas Eve post-mexican feast tradition. 

As is the gifting of jammies. Ignore all those vaccuum cleaners.

My jammie game was strong this year

 

that's good enough for me

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night

Take me Back Tuesday: Oh Christmas Tree

I love this post. And ach, the links within. 

Take me back to:

Thursday, December 16, 2010

oh, Christmas tree

So, I  whined about mentioned what a difficult time I am having trying to scrounge up the holiday spirit this year.  Have I mentioned that my husband is part elf? I really think that a large part of my problem is the fact that he inundates the world with Christmas music for all of December, which is fine, except that when it comes to merry tunage he is not nearly as concerned with quality as he is with quantity.  Bad Christmas music brings out the bah-humbug in me. Bill. 

I have, however, felt the spirit in fits and jolts. How can one not get up and dance when the Disco Wonderland float passes by during the OB Christmas parade?

And on the day we tried to take Christmas card photos, we stumbled upon the most adorable holiday craft fair that I’ve ever seen. I bought a few things, and saw a flier advertising a locally owned tree lot just up the street. 

We hadn’t quite decided yet what we would do about a tree this year. We’re going to be away on the holiday proper (note to prospective thieves:  the house will be protected by neighbors, ninjas and our beast and her keeper so don’t go getting any ideas), so it seemed kind of silly to go through the whole nine yards and then leave it to rot while Santa found us elsewhere.  We decided to get a small tree, maybe a table top number, and to put out the just the most special household crap sacred and tasteful Christmas décor. 

So when I saw that flier, I thought it would be a perfect time to embrace the spirit of the moment and go grab a tree. The kids and I were traveling Westy-style that day, so it would be a breeze to pop a little tree in the back and surprise Daddy when we all got home.  

We headed over to the little lot, where we found a great heap of nothing. The trees were so lame, and the one that I liked already had a stand on it so they wanted to charge me an additional fee, even though we have a stand in our garage. Puh-leeeeze. We headed home, but at the last minute I pulled a rock star mommy move and veered into the parking lot of a big home improvement store.

Now this is interesting because I am notorious for being uninvolved in the picking out of Christmas trees. Even in the merriest of years, I prefer that my relationship with the tree begin after it has been erected in my house and the lights have been strung. 

So in I walk with the kids in tow, just to see what they’ve got. Naturally, there was a special sale going on right then and there because they were overselling the smaller trees. So the big trees were cheaper. 

I resigned myself to the fact that we had to get one, and did what I always make my husband do when we want to see how a tree looks standing up: I grabbed one by the trunk up toward the top half and pulled it out of its little cubby space until it stood proud and tall….and then tried to keep a hold of it as it went barreling down toward my unsuspecting children’s heads.  (You know how people are always exaggerating about stories like this? I’m not).  I dropped the tree and almost took them both out. Then I summoned a guy, who stood in for my husband and held up several trees for us to praise or reject until we had found the one that would be ours.

Remember, we were in the Westy, so it was no big deal to pop a little tree in the back and bring it on home.

I think we’re going to need a slightly bigger table.