Every second year we travel to Australia for Christmas. Our house sitters usually arrive on the day we leave and to make things easy (saving them the hassle of cleaning up deadish trees), I hang the Christmas decorations around the house rather than a living tree. This year however, I decided no more. No more explaining to the boys why we aren't going to have a Christmas tree - and so instead I bought a fake one.
Having a real Christmas tree is my favourite thing in the world and will definitely be the main feature of our Christmas's's's' at home. But oh my giddy aunt - I love this plastic fantastic tree. It completely withstood our way of decorating which involves pushing ornaments into its every nook and cranny. In fact, it's getting kind of hard to see the branches, it is encrusted, bejewelled, bedecked, besmothered in decorations - or to be completely honest, gaudy craziness.
It's like a flock of unruly birds tried simultaneously to build a nest.
And of course, the very best, the most special and the least pretty ornament was saved for last. I love our monster angel that was made when my littlest boy was particularly little. It is hideously wonderful - it really is. I love it.
Boats, owls, rabbits, ships, umbrellas, birds, baubles, pompoms, flowers, disco balls - I think there may even be some Christmas things on there too.
My rabbit lights - a souvenir from our travels around England.
One even hopped in a boat!
Gaaaaahhhhh - I just saw the most marvellous opportunity for reenacting 'The Owl and The Pussycat' - which by the way was read at our wedding.
I wonder what's inside that caravan...
So there it is - our tree completely overdressed for another year. I wonder if a study has been done somewhere throughout the world comparing Christmas trees to owners.....
Lots and lots of love,
Kate. xxooxx
