Those of you who subscribe to my blog via e-mail had some old entries delivered to your in-box yesterday. Sorry about that, I bet you thought I was losing my mind. Not a chance; I simply changed the look of my blog and I suppose that triggered some sort of malfunction. Really, I have no idea what happened. I'm sure that my friend, Peter, would say that it was caused by "user error" which is code for: you screwed up. But rest assured that is not the case, as I am never at fault.
I'm happy to report that our Christmas tree is up and decorated and all is merry and bright! It's the earliest we've ever put up our tree (which is one of the benefits of having my husband home for the holidays). The Grinch thought he could stop Christmas from coming this year, but he was sadly mistaken.
So, we had plans to get the tree first thing in the morning, but we awoke to the first significant rainfall in three months. At the first sign that it was letting up, we put on our coats and our smiles and made a bee line for the minivan and headed over to the Christmas tree lot. And on the way over, as luck would have it, it started raining like the hammers of hell. The kids immediately began moaning and groaning, but I told them to channel some of that Christmas magic and make believe it was snow (as I cursed under my breath). We waded through puddles the size of small oceans, but we pretended that we were traversing fluffy mounds of snow. Just like a picture print from Currier and Ives. That is, until Beck submerged his entire foot in a freezing puddle...and then, sadly, the fun was over.
It's usually quite an ordeal to get my family to agree on a tree. There have been years where we stood in that lot for almost an hour arguing about the height, width, color and firmness of the branches. It usually comes down to me maneuvering for a manageable size tree (ideally I like the Charlie Brown variety) and the three of them pushing for a tree that would rival the one at Rockefeller Center. We usually meet somewhere in the middle (because I'm the first one to cry uncle.)
But this year, thanks in part to Mother Nature's foul mood (and Beck's soaking wet foot), the second tree I suggested received a unanimous round of ayes. Within ten minutes of arriving, we had that thing strapped to our minivan and were hightailing it out of the parking lot and back to our warm, dry house. Now granted, when we got it home and decorated, the tree looked more like a snowman than a Christmas tree, but that's neither here nor there. Who said the bottom of a Christmas tree has to be wider than the top? Probably the Grinch; but again, he was sadly mistaken.