Another Merry Christmas Tree

It’s December, which means it’s time for a Christmas Tree Saga from yours truly. But honestly, the drama just wasn’t there, this year, even though I chose a) the biggest tree on the lot and certainly b) the tallest of our short lives.

I dressed for the occasion

We rocked up the other day and it was still November because Husband’s travel meant he’d be away the first two weekends in December. Last year the road to perdition was muddy as fuck but being at the beginning of the festive season meant other people would get the muddy end of the stick, er trunk. Anyhoo, it was glorious outside and the kids ran around after critiquing the cider.

Aside from choosing the mobile phone tower, again, I felt like there was less to choose from, this year. In two years it looks like there’ll be a bumper crop, but I cast my eye back to the welcoming scene at the door and Husband inwardly groaned, his back twinged in anticipation. 

No, not that one

It was pre-cut and trying to catch our attention from the get-go with that seductive pose. The kids ran off the sling-shot while Husband and I had a war of eye-rolls.

Someone copped an inadvertent apple in the nuts

Everyone came to investigate and agreed that save for the mobile phone tower, it probably was, or had been, the tallest tree on the lot. The potential problem would be baling.

And carrying.

And getting it home.

But not necessarily in that order.

Anyhoo, we made it! The tree is up, no divorce in sight, and I even managed to get a few lights close to the top,

 though the star never had a chance.

Merry Christmas, y’all!


Adventure in Progress

I love it when the boys go on an expedition. They fastidiously pack their backpacks with snacks and drinks, hopeful that healthy snacks will allow them to take a treat or two, as well. They hunt for belts so they can walk with their swords, they grab jackets in case it is cold or wet, they often take books to read or notebooks to write in, and then complain when they can’t think of other important items to weigh them down on their journey. They encourage or discourage each other about bringing toys along for the adventure.
Once outside, they rediscover things forgotten and left outside for days or weeks, and pretend to hack stuff along the way to wherever they are going.

I like when they are gone for longer than ten minutes, which doesn’t happen often because they really wish I was going with them. I love that they want me with them, but as I’ve often said to them, kids can’t always have proper adventures when they are with their parents. I don’t recall any parents being involved when people were flying around on the wishing chair. I might have to read them some Enid Blyton books so they get the idea. Maybe 7yo will be ready ro read some of them himself, soon. In the mean time, I’m keeping myself busy by the fire.