Boasting can be a risky endeavor. Showing off any item from a collection of conceits – the handsomeness of your children, the superiority of your parents, the dominance of you job, your paycheck, your birthplace, your sports team – can either invite a good-natured discussion or a healthy bloodletting. And if you’re the type of person with the habit of showing all of these things off, then why are you reading my blog? Remove yourself from the Café immediately.
However, even with this being said, I still must boast. About my Christmas tree. It has been in my home for over a week, and it is as fat and fragrant and fir-licious as ever. I must say how proud of it I am, especially since when Boyfriend picked it up it still had some Oregon snow clinging to its branches. I found that rather sweet, bringing its wintry crystals to Southern California; so part of my pride is an apology as well. Sorry to take you from the forest to my apartment. Sorry I killed your cricket friend that you hid in your needles.
So out of repentance, I decorated you. I want you to feel lovely, and I think you’ll agree that I have some splendid ornaments. A fish made of pearls and green glitter. A tiny silver whale spouting a plume of breath shaped like a palm tree. A Sputnik shaped ornament from the early ‘60’s. Two fish I bought in London – one made of twisted gold filigree, the other with a body of crimson velvet. I have decorated you with constellations! A stream of silver stars. A red crescent moon with a star dangling before it – as if it were to be devoured…or greeted.
You will also notice that there are two miniature Christmas trees hanging from your branches. They were once pink; now they are faded into water-color memories. They are dotted with tiny bulbs. They are made of tulle and are as delicate as Yuletide petticoats. They have been crushed and then re-shaped. When I was little – well, Aubrey was never little; perhaps when I was young-small – they were my favorite ornaments:
This is one of my favorite pictures. (you can see the pink decoration dangling from the lower berth of the family Christmas tree)
I will never know why I was staring at the tree with such fascination. Perhaps I was feeling the same guilt I feel for you now, my gallant misplaced tree. Perhaps I was staring at the ornaments, amazed with wonder, that I could reach out and hold Christmas in my hand.
And the fact that I still have these ornaments encourages me to boast. It might not be the best of manners, but I think that I will take the risk.
Wishing you all holidays full of pride and joy.