Christmas according to us.

I captured a Christmas tree yesterday. It was a traditional capture. Sleet and temperature dropping, I set off alone in my rusty old station wagon. I was alone because the rest of my family deserted me, another family tradition. John justifies this by telling the story of one of his old dogs who took "forever" to find a place to mictuate. The children eagerly use his excuse.
The first tree store was closed. Sold out. I cut back around town and tried Jerry's veggie store. Sure enough, some few trees were in the back yard. It took about  3 minutes to chose one and two minutes to write the check. The sleet was wetting the check. The man selling trees had it trussed and in my car in seconds. So the tree and I headed home.
I can't carry a big tree into the house anymore. My back hurts. I resigned myself to riding around with Christmas tree for a few days.
Imagine my joy when I came downstairs this morning and found the trussed tree on the floor of the front hall!
I have a cheery sort of house now. I bought some inexpensive roses and put them on the mantle. The dining room table has a wierdly coloured poinsettia on it. The local undertaker sends one to Ma every year, no doubt to ensure our custom. Ma's allergic so she threw it at me after we'd visited John the brother yesterday.
It's pale orange with yellow accents, no doubt mutated for some purpose I don't understand.
The infants have condescended to be home on Christmas eve. As Marguerite is working on Christmas day we'll exchange gifts on Christmas eve. Then there's the traditional brunch at Ma's with relations I haven't seen since last Christmas. Then the men of the family plan to go to a movie and I will enjoy peace and quiet. Well as much as I can with a diabetic dog, a naughty brown dog (she steals) and the monster dog who has only the best intentions as he lashes his tail across fragile items and barks at snowment and little babies' pointy hats. Merry Christmas!