Árbol de Navidad.

Woken in the early hours by a massive thunderstorm crashing immediately overhead, and the rattling of hailstones against the windows. Later in the day I saw pictures on social media of piles of ice and snow in Mahon, the roads gradually being cleared by local services. This is so unusual that in previous years I’d have rushed out there to photograph it, but looking out at the grey skies and near-darkness at midday, I just thought nah. Getting too old for such shenanigans.
Instead I decided to redecorate the Christmas tree. A bit of history: in my childhood and in my children’s childhoods, I was always the one to decorate the tree, perhaps allowing them to put the odd item in a position I pointed out. Control freak? Perfectionist? Maybe. At some point in early adulthood, #1 daughter decided to take over the role (maybe when I was post-SAH and seen by many as incapable of most things). It was kind of her to help in this way, but it became an annual thing, and I was gutted. Decorating the tree was MY job and i loved it!
Anyway, when my new husband took it upon himself to do the tree, probably because I’m too slow whereas he likes to get things done, I was disappointed. To my critical eye, it looked like a load of decorations had exploded over the tree randomly, with no sense of spacing out similar items or colours. Also the lights were mostly st the top and ran out 2 feet from the bottom. Not that I’m critical at all!
It took ages to remove and detangle everything, and then put it all back in a more (to me) aesthetically pleasing way. It says a lot for him that he didn’t take offence at this and let me get on with it.