Skip to main content

The Tree, As Promised

It's a day-time shot, which is less appealing than an evening shot. Sorry about that.

Here's a closeup of the angel showing the instrument she plays when no one is looking.
It's a horn (in case you can't tell from this angle).

Comments

dive said…
That's a beautiful tree, Robyn.
And the angel playing the horn is just a brilliant touch!

You Colonial folks seem to "do" Christmas far better than us Brits. Over here, it's very tacky and commercialised, just pre-packaged tat with no sense of joy or wonder any more.
Your tree reminds me of what I used to dream Christmas was about when I was a kid. Wonderful.
6:09 AM
Scout said…
There is plenty of commercialism and tackyness in the States--I just try to avoid it.

I went to a craft supply store the other day to buy envelopes for my Christmas cards (it's a dying tradition, but I still make them and mail them to all our friends). Anyway, I was struck by the amount of pure crap that was passing for Christmas decor. Ick.
7:56 AM
Scout said…
OH, and thank you for complimenting the tree. It's full of all kinds of ornaments, some of which I made years ago when we couldn't afford to buy them. They're lovely (smirk), but they will always have a place on the tree.
7:57 AM
dive said…
Hee hee.
"Ick" is the most eloquent statement I've yet heard about the curret, faddy styles of Christmas Decoration.

If there were more people like you around at Christmas, it might bring some of us Scroogey curmudgeons back from the Christmas-Free Zone that commercial tat has driven us into.
8:24 AM
dive said…
"curret"?
Sorry … Good word, though. Maybe I'll make a carrot curry later to give it meaning.
8:26 AM
Anonymous said…
I thought that angel was playing a soprano sax. Thanks for straightening me out. Pretty tree, too!
9:39 AM
Scout said…
Dive: start your own non-icky Christmas trend there in the mother land, at least for your own sake.

Rhea: I hadn't even thought it might be seen as a sax. The shot was such a bad angle because the thing is so high up.
12:29 PM
Gina said…
Very pretty! I have been toying with the use of a pearl garland for mine, but I'm not sure it goes with my stuff.
11:34 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Am I Stupid, or What?

In two weeks, I will climb up into a charter bus, take my assigned seat, and ride 22 hours straight to Orlando, Florida. I will be a chaperon with the high school marching band, which will perform at Disney's Magic Kingdom--me and 180 people on four big buses for seven days. We will travel together, eat together, play together, fall down exhausted together--and after 22 hours, I suspect stink to high heaven together. Because of the crazy schedule, we will leave Ohio at 6 pm, travel all night and most of the next day, and spend several hours at MGM Studios before ending up at the hotel sometime after 7 pm. After I check in with the eight girls I am to supervise, I intend to shower and shower and shower. I intend to wear clean clothes and socks and brush my teeth until my toothbrush wears out. Of all the things I could be concerned about on this trip, being dirty seems to weigh heaviest on my mind. One of my eight charges could run off and do bad things with her boyfriend, but I'...
21 comments
Read more

No More Mr. Nice Guy

It's good to be a nice person--to say nice things, to do nice things, to write nice things--but I declare an end to the use of the word nice. Nice is what you say when you can't think of any other adjective. Someone shows you a picture of their back yard--that's nice. Someone tells you about their afternoon adventure--that's nice. Or someone describes their childhood in great detail and sometimes with painstaking effort--that's nice. It's a lazy word, and it's non-descriptive. Nice is like mashed potatoes with noodles and chicken gravy all in a big pile on one plate with some canned corn for garnish. Everything is the same color and texture and base substance--starch (this is a favorite Amish dish). Nice is like a partly cloudy day in April when outside feels like inside, and you can't tell a difference between the lighting and the temperature of your living room and the lighting and temperature of your front yard. Nice is a glass of lukewarm water. ...
20 comments
Read more

An Offending Pile

So, I'm standing in my living room letting my mind wander for a minute or two as I stare out the window and watch the day go by, and I see my neighbors walking their dogs down the street. They are nice neighbors who are always friendly and responsible with their property. That is to say they aren't like the other neighbors who heap rubbish behind their house like Ma and Pa Kettle and let their dogs bark for thirty minutes at a time . Anyway, I see the nice people walking their dogs, a big golden retriever who is as sweet as can be and as dumb as a post—he once ate a sock and nearly died before it was surgically removed—and a new golden retriever puppy. Then I see Neighbor Wife suddenly run down the street with the big dog. Then I see Neighbor Husband stopped in front of my house with the puppy on its leash. And then I see the puppy taking a huge dump in my grass. Let me tell you, that is not done in this town unless the dog owner has a plastic bag handy and is ready to pick up ...
16 comments
Read more