Oh Christmas Tree

I love Christmas. There are lots of good bits, but my favourite would have to be the tree. The pine-y smell. The odd assortment of decorations. The selection process (select, shake, assess, discard, search, return, shake, accept).

Mum and Dad have always had a real tree (despite the pain caused to allergy suffering family members) their decoration collection spans many decades, and more recently, many continents. It is a beautiful work of history. It looks like a glitter monster sneezed on it, and it certainly wouldn't win awards for aesthetics or coordination, but it is literally covered in meaning and stories.

Now that I'm a grown up (ha!) I get to have my own tree too. This is my second year with the real deal (although last year's was really only a branch, rather than an actual *tree*). My deccy collection doesn't have the derth of Ma and Pa's but its certainly a work in progress.

Our tree this year is on the petite side, but what it lacks in stature it makes up for in bushy-ness and spunk. I am in love.