I got Christmas out of the attic over the weekend. Despite a nasty fall on the ice Friday night — nothing broken, just bruised, thank goodness — I managed to crawl into our odd attic space and pull out two trees, a couple of wreaths and the boxes that contain our ornament collection. There’s more holiday paraphernalia in there, but I went for the stuff that was necessary and easily reachable.
My main tree is not traditional. It’s a white metal number, intended for outdoor use. I drape it with silver icicle garland and put a string of blue lights covered with a cloud of tulle under it for the skirt. Then I hang all the precious ornaments I’ve collected over the years on its metal branches.
I love taking the ornaments out of the boxes and recalling where each came from. There’s the glass house that Bryan and I purchased in DisneyWorld, the antique metal bulbs that came from our family collection and the “Our First Christmas Together” ornament that now marks 18 years of wedded bliss (our anniversary was yesterday!). Another favorite is half of a walnut shell with a tiny Nativity scene inside.
Each year I marvel that the delicate egg ornaments in my collection survived another lengthy storage. They are the handiwork of the late Ruth Willemssen, who gifted them to me when I was just a little girl. I must have five or six, each different, with a tiny scene posed in a cutout in the real egg. They are very special.
When the tree was totally decorated, there was still bright sunshine streaming through the front window, so I didn’t get to appreciate the full effect. When it got dark, I turned off all the other lights in the living room and just enjoyed the wonderland glow from our unique Christmas tree.
Christmas has arrived at my house, and I will enjoy those lights and the ornaments every evening until the season is over.