Food & Drink

Food & Drink
Food & Drink

SHOP MY FAVES

SHOP MY FAVES
SHOP MY FAVES

STYLE

STYLE
STYLE

"It's The Most Wonderful Time of the Year..."

Yea, yea, yea...whoever wrote that song obviously didn't have two young children. We ventured out on Saturday to buy our Christmas trees. We always buy two, one for the girls and one for the family. We've been going to the same tree farm for years. I like to support the local guy rather than a big chain, but this year we broke down and went here. Not a bad idea. The trees were reasonably priced and they had undecorated balsam wreaths and pine garland, too. But I seriously missed the little red barn where we buy hot chocolate with mini marshmallows and handmade holiday tchotchkes.

Brought the trees home, set them in the stands and decided to let the trees "settle" until Sunday. On Sunday morning, we decide to tackle the girls' tree first. I string on the rainbow lights and let the girls put the ornaments on. About an hour later, we stand back to admire our handiwork. We are beaming with pride. The tree looks great and the girls have a huge sense of accomplishment. A job well done.

Six hours later as the husband and I are cleaning up dinner, there's a crash. I mean freight train coming through my house crash. I can't look. I just can't. But soon my worst holiday fear is realized. Yes, sure enough, there on the family room floor is the girls' tree. Ornaments scattered all over the floor. The fallen ornaments seem to go on forever. This can't be. I can't do this. Not. Now. It's 7 pm on Sunday night. We never quite get an honest answer as to how/why this happened. I can tell you this...there was some dancing going on the room and the music was loud. But no one was confessing to anything. Not a good ending to an otherwise great weekend.

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