This weekend I found myself relenting to the constant nagging of my daughter. Yes my Christmas decorations are up and my whole house is now the proverbial Christmas tree.
I do love this time of year, I love the glitter, the sparkle and fairy-lights – my God do I love fairy-lights. In my opinion fairy-lights should be everywhere all year round and in my house they are.
Much as I love the chaos (albeit through gritted teeth), I have always been fairly particular with my Christmas tree. It has to be colour co-ordination, as symmetrical as possible with understated, white static lights.
Well this year all my plans have gone to pot. The kids got involved with the decorations and the mishmash of ornaments collected over the years were thrown up in a slap-dash manner with no kind of order or co-ordination at all. Both cats have also thoroughly explored the tree meaning several glass baubles have already hit the deck and the lights have been pulled about to the point of no return. And to top it all, my understated, white static lights – are now vivid red – eww.
Standing back looking at my tree it made me realise that this is exactly what Christmas is all about. The tree is full of memories, each bauble, piece of tinsel and string of beads has its own memory, all of which we treasure. So my tree may be a mess, but I treasure that mess.