Opening these boxes is a little trip down memory lane that I enjoy as I gingerly unwrap and carefully hang all of my tree ornaments -- a collection that was comprised of about eleven ornaments before my Christmas-loving friends took pity on me and began presenting me with these every year so that my tree would be somewhat respectable.
With that, and so that you can share with me this special time of year, I thought I'd take you on a little tour of my Christmas tree. Here, dear friends, is a very Brutalism Christmas:
Of course, there are some traditional ornaments such as these:
|Didn't realize he was "The King" of Israel...|
|Although, if this accurately depicted my childhood, there would be an |
ornament representing cripplingly low self esteem.
|Just needs an ornament of my mom's husband in his underpants to be complete.|
There are ornaments from a fellow Dilettante commemorating our years in the Dilettante Club...
|...or possibly her bra size...|
...and an area dedicated to my two orange cats:
|The one of me stepping in cat vomit and screaming four-letter words while threatening |
to call the pound is just out of the frame.
|And she was apparently two months old in 1894.|
(I do get concerned that when she reaches sixteen, something that reflects "what she likes and does" will be an ornament of a tattooed alt-rocker named "Damage.")
And of course, there are ornaments from my days working for the gun lobby:
|If trees are ornamented then only ornaments will have trees. Or something...|
And possibly my most cherished Christmas piece, from a Jewish friend and via the Dollar Store is this:
Merry Christmas, Everyone!