Old Friends. . . .

Internet restored and I spent most of Monday decorating the tree. . .

Claui and Justin came up Sunday and we all worked on the popcorn chain and got it and the red bows in place (and drank sparkling wine which is perhaps why I wasn't keen to press on with the decorating in spite of their willingness to help.)

So yesterday I took my time and renewed my acquaintance with all these old friends -- the felt and rick rack ornaments Justin made in second or third grade . . .

The beaded ornaments Cory's (the guy not the cat) grandmother made and he is leaving with us till such time as he and Kasie do a tree of their own. (Cory and Kasie have been a part of our tree decorating for many years and they were sorely missed this year when they had to stay in California.)

The little wooden angel the homeroom mothers handed out in eighth grade -- (John got one too as we were in the same home room but his has disappeared.)

And some more recent acquisitions . . .

This fish's little fins flutter most appealingly -- I've tried to hang him where the kittehs won't notice him. . . 

Is this a lute? 

This retro beauty is the last of a set of ornaments that John sold to my parents back in 1959. He was a member of the Jr, Optimists and they were trying to raise money for something or other.

A card/ornament made by one of our great nephews -- with some help from his mother. . .

So many memories . . .

Continuing On . . .

Lots more stuff to go on the tree. For many years we had no glass at all on the tree but it does lend a nice sparkle.  

 

Because the kittehs are an unknown quantity, re tree, I opted to display in a bowl the glass ornaments that were my parents' and use just the cheap and easily replaceable red globes. 

Several ornaments needed new hanging loops and one of my very favorites -- the pig and piglet -- suffered dog damage last year. . . Someone (I suspect William) removed Mama Pig's ears and tail as well as the hanging loop.

 So I performed an ear transplant -- removing the pink felt ears from one of the kittehs' toy mice (yes, I felt a little bad about this,) trimming them to pig ear shape (a leftover scrap worked for a tail,) and sewing them in place.

 

And there they are, back where they belong!

.
 Cory was not amused by the kitteh ornament

Finding a place for everything. . .

No ornament left behind . . .


Hand crafted by Justin in third grade . . .

Hand painted by a friend (on a tiny gourd she grew.)

A good message -- whatever your religion or lack thereof. The spirit of Christmas -- the rejoicing and the giving -- could warm most any heart, however cold.

 

Empty ornament boxes are quickly repurposed to a higher use. 

And I declare the tree done!

 

The Never-Ending Story. . .

And then there was the tinsel.  These pretty things give a lovely finishing touch -- as long as they're hung so that they dangle loose and straight. If you just hook one on one of the branches, it will tend to stick out at a silly angle, defying gravity and looking nothing like an icicle. The only solution is to hang them from the wires of the lights or to remove some of the needles on the tip of a branch so that the little tin icicle can hang straight. It's a tedious job but it's done! 

  

At last all the ornaments are on the tree, from  the crocheted snowflakes and the stuffed hearts and the doves and the candy canes and the red bows and Justin's kindergarten paper star to the survivor of the starfish couple given  to us by friends

 I still have to cut greenery and bring it inside  --- later in the week. But the corner cupboard is wearing its Christmas look. . .

There are lots of Santa's and several creches, including this odd one from India (I love the off-hand way the shepherds carry their sheep and the Fifties suburban housewife hairdo that Mary sports.)

These little figures from Italy are my favorites. I gave them to my grandmother about fifty years ago and there was also a lamb. The lamb disappeared a while back -- I think William got it. And the canopy (the wire thingie from a champagne bottle) on the manger was added by one of my boys -- and now it's a part of the Christmas tradition.

A Tree of Memories

Sunday was the day for stringing popcorn and cranberries and decorating the tree with the help of friends and family. We're fortunate to have a core group who've done this so often that I could just leave them to it.

But I don't. I love to watch the old familiar ornaments appear and get put where they belong-- like the tree-topping angel that I made from a kit almost thirty years ago.

At last the popcorn cranberry chains are done -- about 75 feet of them -- and Justin and Cory take on the job of draping them to my exacting standards.

Then there are the scarlet ribbons for the tree . . .

. . . and the dogs . . .


. . . and one cat (Eddie was having none of it.)

The ornaments are an eclectic mix -- from this shabby blue ball that still bears the traces of the glitter-traced "Skip" that either my brother (Skip) or I adorned it with over fifty years ago. . .

. . to store bought crocheted snowflakes and candy canes and tin 'icicles' and a few porcelain bells that once adorned John's grandparents' tree. . .















. . . and this kinda tacky thing that was part of a box of ornaments my parents bought from John who was selling them as part of a club project back in high school . . .
















. . and this sequined heart made by Justin way back in third or fourth grade. . . .















. . and still another heart, made by Theresa, Aileen's mother.

















The finished product isn't glamorous-- but it's laden with memories.

Breaking Up Christmas

Our family tradition, inherited from my maternal grandmother, is that it's bad luck to have the Christmas tree still in the house on New Year's Day. So I've spent all day deconstructing the ten foot fir that only a few weeks ago we were adorning.

It's a slow and contemplative process and gives me time to reconnect with each ornament as I remove it from the tree and lay it on the dining table to await the final boxing up and stowing away for another year. Old friends, these decorations, from the blue glass ball with my brother's name staggering across its surface, the glitter long gone, to the somewhat lurid pink and blue globe -- the last of a box of ornaments my mother purchased from my then boyfriend, now husband, in 1959 when his high school club was selling ornaments as a fund-raiser.

There are the simple stuffed fabric hearts that were a mainstay of the decorations when our boys were young and our dogs and cats rambunctious and there are two boxes of fragile glass ornaments inherited from my mother. A green wooden curtain ring with the figure of a baby on it marks our older son's first Christmas in 1972 and simple felt cutouts sprinkled with glued-on sequins commemorate our younger boy's stint as a Clover Buddy (FFA for the grammar school bunch.) There's a plaster Santa, carefully painted with tempera paints by my husband when he was a cub scout, and a wooden angel that was a gift from the homeroom mother when I was an eighth grader.

The satin ribbons are untied and taken upstairs to be ironed; the cranberry and popcorn is slid off the thread into a bucket for the chickens; the strings of lights are pulled off and the tree is toppled and dragged out of the house. Only a slight fragrance of fir remains -- and we are safe from bad luck for another year.