Sunday, November 21, 2004

My house is beautiful and glowing. . . the clouds are fluffy but not snowing. . .Willy Wonka's way of rhyming. . .uses perfect tone and timing. . .

I just put up a second Christmas tree in my dining room. I've never done such a thing before. Why did I do it now?

Well, the only reason I really have, is that I've collected Hallmark ornaments since 1973 and I have too many for one tree. Other years, I've been content to let most of them sit in a box and make no appearance.

For whatever reason, this year I couldn't stand the thought of those beautiful ornaments sitting in the dark, under the stairs, in a box, so I got them out. I saw things I hadn't seen in years, and the moment I looked at them I knew I couldn't NOT put them out.

Fortunately, my bargain-seeking husband bought an extra tree last year during the sales, and I burrowed through all the stuff in the garage, found it, and put it up. I had to leave off the back branches so it would fit snug against the window, but it's beautiful.

I had to sacrifice a little ambience to make room for it, but why should I worry about ambience now? It's never bothered me before.

My family won't mind if the dining room table sticks out a few feet into the living room, will they? Well, will they? The people sitting on that one end might be sitting in the dark, but I'll put some candles on the table and maybe they won't notice. And the fact that half the table will be sitting on the hardwood floor and the other half on the carpet won't be noticed either, I bet. And if somebody spills cranberry sauce on the grey carpet, well, it'll be in good company.

There are red creme soda stains on that carpet from 1996. (My kids covered them with furniture and I didn't find them till it was too late.) What's a little cranberry stain to me?

(I'm not even going to tell you about the felt tip pen marks under the coffee table.)

Oh, and Willy Wonka? He's one of my HEROES. Gene Wilder rocks. And Johnny Depp probably will, too. And if he doesn't, well, who cares? (droool. . . . .)