Our cute, chubby tree.
I'm going to try to make this short tonight. It's another one of those, it's late and I'm tired posts.
You know how sometimes you just get into the holiday spirit? It's not like you have any money, or that you still don't have an attitude about everything in general, but you're actually feeling it? That's how I got tonight. I walked home with the snow hitting my face and shoveled that same snow for about a half an hour. Somewhere during that, I had this weird feeling that things were exactly as they should be. It's a week before Christmas. It should be snowing. I should be shoveling it. I almost felt like defying the elements and running outside too, but then I remembered that not everyone comes home from work and cleans their sidewalks, so a jog around town could be a little uncomfortable.
I took my new found holiday appreciation to a restaurant and splurged on inexpensive take-out sushi for me and the girls (if you take it out, you don't have to waste money on drinks or a real tip). The girls were most appreciative. The only problem, is that I gorged myself and had big expanded rice belly, so I had to take a power nap before I could start getting the tree going.
The ornament Coadster made me in second grade.
Our tree this year is short and squat. Both the girls have used the word "cute" to describe it several times now, but it is fitting.
When I first split with my ex, I was broker than broke. I had a tree that year, but I could only afford to buy one cheap box of red ornaments. Every year since then, I've let the girls pick out one ornament a year for me to buy. Those along with the ones people have given us, and the others my daughters made have since taken over our tree. We don't even have room for the boring red ones anymore. My favorite one is in the photograph above. It's made from plaster, or clay and weighs about 100 pounds, and looks like Mr Bill on acid. Coadster made it in second grade and I'm sure I'll hang it on my tree every year until somebody steals it from me at my nursing home and finally throws it away.
Okay, this is me being a sorry, mushy sap. It's kind of sick, but I figure I gotsta go with it when I'm having these holiday spirit pangs. Don't worry, I'm sure by tomorrow I'll be back to my old self, swearing in front of young children, and kicking puppies.