A jumble of memories
I've put my Christmas tree up. Advent 4 comes too late this year for me to wait, and there wouldn't have been any trees left to buy if I'd put it off any longer. And it struck me as I decorated it late this afternoon how it never really changes, from the star I made from fuse wire and tinsel in 1970 when I found I'd forgotten to get anything for the top of the first tree in our own flat in Hyndland right down to the little silver bells with actual working clappers ...
Actually that's not strictly true. The lights are fairly new; the first set of Pifco lights gave up after only 40 years and had to be replaced by modern ones, and that little golden angel made from pasta pieces was given me by my daughter-in-law some time in the past 10 years. The rather glitzier gold angel lurking in the recesses came from an American friend, and the silver butterfly was made by someone in church who always puts two decorations in with her Christmas card. The glass bauble, however, dates from our early years in Dunoon; I bought it in Woolworths something like 40 years ago and it's more or less intact.
Other people I know change the look of their trees from year to year, but I can't bear to. Wouldn't be mine if it were different.
I've stuck in a much more natural tree as my extra photo for today - a fallen giant of the species, looking like a mossy path leading to the distant hills. It's on the hillside in Benmore Gardens and I loved its fresh green after a week of snow and frost.
But did I mention that I think I'm allergic to my little tree? <coughs weakly>