This year's tree is named Jimmy. Partially for Jimmy Stewart, and partially for the Scottish phrase heard just before someone gets their arse kicked up to their teeth: "See you, Jimmy!"
In other words, I'll post about our trip tomorrow. Meanwhile, I decided to relax my brain this morning with a nice cup of java, Sunday Baroque on the radio, my handsome husband on the next computer over, and size and crop my holiday photos. Thanks to Bear's wonderful Yule present last year, I was able to take some really great photos of a small segment of our most special ornaments.
A wee panorama of smaller ornaments. Every year, after hanging all our larger ones, I hang myriad tiny dark blue ones on the tips of all reachable branches.
We have underlying themes that seem to run through our ornament collection. Owls, acorns, bears, squirrels, and soldiers, for example.
The wee teacup ornament was given to me by my longest-running friend (we met in the nursery at my parents' church). The bear was a present for Bear one Yule.
The wee white house was made by an art teacher named Dr. Johnson who taught in my grade school. It's a replica of a small house near the post office of the town I grew up in. I also have an ornament he made of the local fire department and the library.
Lovely memories there!
This wine-colored ornament has a partner, similarly colored and adorned, in the shape of an acorn.
When Bear and I started dating, he had a small collection of soldier ornaments. Every year (almost) since then, I have attempted to add a new and different sort of soldier to that collection. Here is one.
This harp ornament was tied to a ribbon atop an actual Celtic lap harp that Bear gave me many Yules ago. I started crying the moment I saw the ornament on the outside of the package.
This hoolet, complete with real feather eyebrows, is the newest addition to our collection. He was purchased in the picturesque town of Sayville, on the night that Bear took me out to dinner for my birthday.
This ornament has significance in that it is the sole survivor of a set of four, from the horrible tree debacle of 1993, in which an ex of mine knocked the entire tree over on a wood floor.
Much weeping and gnashing of teeth ensued.
Followed by much sweeping of glass shards.
Every year, the Metropolitan Museum of Art comes out with a new snowflake ornament. My mother gifted us with at least fifteen.
This is one.
Another soldier ornament, this one pressed metal.
I love his jaunty little 'stache.
This bagpiper ornament is massive - stands around a foot high.
My father gave it to Bear, and - always true to his goofiness - left the price tag on. In memory of my dad, we never took it off. You can see it sticking out just behind his shoulder on the right side.
I can't resist these reflection shots. I love the way you can see all the way across the livingroom to the staircase on the left side, and all the way back into the kitchen on the right side. And the string lights are reflected in the lens of the camera, which looks cool.
I'm a sucker for old fashioned glitter on ornaments, and things that are colored non-traditionally.
Like this red snowflake.
A Victorian-style Father Christmas, complete with squirrel.
Squirrel? Guess Santa needs someone to take care of his nuts.
I am also passionate about the vintage Shiny Brite ornaments. Nothing makes me feel more nostalgic at this time of year than the dented glory that is a Shiny Brite ornament. I even bought a vintage tablecloth that depicts Shiny Brites all around the border - awesome!
More glittery goodness.
Another addition to the soldier collection.
A pretty stained glass leaf, perfect for hanging in front of the fairy lights for dramatic effect.
A super-vintage sugar cookie soldier ornament.
I never had any of the other 11 of this set. Don't know why. Don't really care. I just love his joyous leaping!
This velvet ornament in peacock colors always makes me think of a sultan's harem. A little exotic Yuletide beauty!
Shiny Brite LOVE!
A Viking warrior - for the soldier collection!
This acorn ornament is from the 1930s. Very fragile, and delicately beautiful. An art deco treat!
We were going to un-decorate the tree and the house today, but:
a) We're both too knackered and sore to move, and
b) The tree is still green and the needles are still soft, and it's just too pretty to do it yet.