We bought a Christmas tree! Yay! Every year we go through the "Should we; shouldn't we" ritual wherein I feel guilty but beg beg beg for my husband to cave to waste of money and natural resources and buy a sweet-smelling, pert-fronded, ideally-sized Fraser Fir. Redolent of Christmas. It's busy RIGHT THIS MINUTE, making our house smell delicately of northern forest. I'm in love with Richie and the tree he let us buy.
We had a hard time finding a place for the tree in our house. In anticipation of our upcoming tree bid, I had the furniture rearranged into what I thought was an acceptable layout when Richie arrived home. He could not accept my layout, complaining that there was no cut-through from the front door to the kitchen. He had to walk a whole five extra feet around a cloistered sitting area devoted to the tree.
I tutored Tim. I came back into the living room to find it completely rearranged such that the couch occludes the tree. Richie admits his arrangement isn't great. We'll see what happens...
Mazie's frieking out about her nose hurting (??) Did you pick it? Did you sneeze? Did you bump it? Did anything happen to your nose? No to all. And now Vivi, having been disturbed by Mazie, is telegraphing down the stairs about something. Sorry nothing coherent or meaningful occurs to me tonight.
Over and out. I've been meaning to write about what I think is appropriate for Christmas, but I'm out of gas tonight.
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