Come oh come ye tea-thirsty restless ones -- the kettle boils, bubbles and sings, musically. ~ Rabindranath Tagore
It's been a few years since I last put up a tree at the winter holidays. I had been pretty committed to using a real tree. But they dry out and, being that we spend Christmas out of town, missing a few waterings just makes a cut tree even more tinder-like than it would otherwise be by then. It just wasn't practical.
When my dad asked, rather wistfully, if we were going to have a tree this year, first I reminded him about our travel, but then I thought, having a fake tree isn't worse than having no tree. I hate to disappoint my dad. So, I went to the internet.
I ordered a pretty nice tree, but a smallish one, 4½ feet. (There was a significant price jump between that and the five-foot tree, and this was, after all, experimental.) It was a little short to stand on the floor, but that was no problem! My dad sprang into action -- well, he doesn't so much "spring" any more -- and made it a little table to stand on. Ideally, this table would someday be painted, but for now, it's fine in its original plywood finish. The main point was to put up the tree!
It may not surprise you to learn that I have a specific neurosis about glass Christmas ornaments. When I was a toddler and we lived at my grandma's, she put up her tree in her finished basement room with the linoleum floor, and I would be recruited to help decorate it. She had pre-war glass ornaments of astounding, soap-bubble-like fragility, with metal-fatigued hanging loops that were too tired to support even the tiny weight of the wispy ornament. It went the same way every year: she had the box of these gorgeous things on the table, and she'd hand me one by the hook and I'd set off in the direction of the tree, get about two feet, the glass would drop off the loop and shatter on the hard floor, and I would cry and run away. It's not that she was ever mad at me about it. It was all my own trauma about demolishing beautiful objects. After a few years of this, I was terrified of Christmas trees.
When I got old enough to have my own tree, I figured out that I didn't have to put glass balls on it, and that didn't have to mean plastic ones either. I had actually already been gathering ornaments of materials other than glass for a while, because I like small odd objects. Over the years, I've assembled a collection I love and have missed in the years they've sat lonely in their boxes. I'm especially well supplied with moons, stars, and suns, and also with animals, birds, and fish. But there are plenty that fit no category, and they all carry memories of how they came here.
Oh, look! This orange curlicue would look nice in that empty spot -- where's a hook? Below it, some close-ups of my cherished pals.
My mom went to China in the 80s, and she brought me several stuffed fabric ornaments, of which the dragon is the most fabulous.
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And that's her red telephone box from London. Friends gave me the Klimt-inspired Santa and the black sheep, but I chose the winged cupcake myself. ;) |
Not only is this not my only dinosaur -- it's not my only stegosaurus. I love his festive lights! |
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I bought that embroidered kitty in the college bookstore when I was a freshman; she's from Hungary. My 1999->2000 rocketship (not the only rocketship!) makes me smile. And the pterodactyl bridges the gap between my many birds and my many dinosaurs. |
My little brother made me that yarn Ojo de Dios in grade school. Hmm, that was something like 45 years ago. Time flies... |
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The Aztec two-headed serpent came from the British Museum shop -- there was a special exhibit when I was there in 2009. And up there on the right is one of my very few exceptions, a glass owl that is not-scary enough for me to actually hang up. |
You can't tell from this angle that the very dapper alligator wears a monocle. There's my blue and yellow armadillo on the right, waving to nomandates. And I bought that little blue wooden car at the top left around the time the Soviet Union was collapsing. It's stamped on the bottom: MADE BY FREE PEOPLE OF ESTONIA. |
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I bought that mouse whose body is a carrot because it was so incongruous. Rabbit made from a carrot, way too obvious, but mouse? Very entertaining.
Oh, and I collect winged pigs, too. Long story.
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The tin mermaid kind of caught the flash here. Painted tin cutouts from Mexico are some of my favorites. I also love the papier mâché balls -- no shattering here! |
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That glittery pink swan is something my grandma brought me from California (from Carmel, I think) when I was a little girl. Now it's guarded by a genie, a cow, and a sequinned stegosaurus. |
I really love that grinning Balinese wooden dragon, even though his grin might be dangerous if he were real.
Both my chickens are in this picture!
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We could be here all day if I talked about them all. I skipped some of my favorites in this quick tour. I still admire beautiful glass ornaments -- but I still fear them. What's on your tree, if you have one?
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Kitchen Table Kibitzing is a community series for those who wish to share part of the evening around a virtual kitchen table with kossacks who are caring and supportive of one another. So bring your stories, jokes, photos, funny pics, music, and interesting videos, as well as links—including quotations—to diaries, news stories, and books that you think this community would appreciate. Readers may notice that most who post diaries and comments in this series already know one another to some degree, but newcomers should not feel excluded. We welcome guests at our kitchen table, and hope to make some new friends as well.
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