And by progress, I mean I dragged my monster of a tree from the garage, into the house and up the stairs. I started to fluff all the branches, but I got kind of bored and gave up. It’s a tedious task; I’ll get back to it later.
Next up, I have to actually put the ornaments on the tree. Most people find this an enjoyable activity, but I find it stressful. Isn’t that kind of sad? Christmas tree and stress are two words that do not belong in the same sentence. The trouble is that I’m a total perfectionist and I like for the ornaments to be evenly spaced; making sure that this happens takes a lot of time and effort. A lot of bending, reaching, standing back to check progress, rearranging and moving the clumped ornaments an eager (yet one who is unaware of the importance of spatial relationship) child loads in one quadrant of the tree.
Sometimes I don’t know what to do with myself.
For the moment our tree stands bare. It shall be adorned eventually.
Apropos of nothing, I feel as if I should confess a few things that have been weighing heavily on my heart.
1. I do not like Bing Crosby’s rendition of “White Christmas.” I know this confession probably makes me seem unamerican, but I can’t help it. It’s not like I hate it or anything; I don’t turn the radio dial when it’s on, but it’s just not my favorite. I should also say, that I like Bing’s “White Christmas” about 1,000 times more than I like “Little Drummer Boy.” Now, THAT is a dumb song. Rum-pum-pum-pum? Bing and David Bowie in cardigan sweaters? Sheesh.
2. I’m also not a fan of black and white movies. I’m sure you all think I’m horribly uncultured for admitting this, but it’s true. I like a few black and white tv shows, especially Leave it to Beaver, but old black and white movies bore me. They’re not flashy enough, I guess. I need the flash.
3. I don’t like shortbread or butter cookies. To me, cookies need to be thick, chewy and dense. Extra points if they’re slathered in icing or dipped in chocolate.
4. Generally, I do not find myself emotionally attached to ‘stuff’ and I can easily throw things away. However, I have a major emotional attachment to my Christmas ornament collection. If our house was on fire, I’d probably grab my ornaments before any of our other important belongings. So many of these ornaments tell a story of our family history; I would be shattered if I lost them.
5. Yesterday, after our 20 mile run, my feet hurt so bad that when it was time to get Caroline from her friend’s house, I walked there in just my socks. Actually, they were Craig’s socks, which have a lot of padding. Sure, I felt like a hillbilly, but I really didn’t care all that much. I tried to put my feet in shoes and I lasted 10 steps before I chucked them.
Okay, I feel better now. Confession truly is good for the soul.
I’ll be back tomorrow. Hopefully with a decorated tree!