Spider Webs or Snowflakes?

It all depends on your age and sex.

The grands were over this morning, checking out the decorated tree in the living room. My grandson, age 5, the kindergarten boy, was walking around the tree muttering, "spider web, spider web, spider web."

At first I thought he was walking through dangling webs. That has happened on occasion. Pesky little web spinners.

But he continued. Specifically. As he went, he pointed to every crocheted snowflake, calling it a spider web. Each one, to his eyes, looked just like a spider web.

Those snowflakes are precious heirlooms to me. Not spider webs. My mother and several church friends, some that are no longer with us, crocheted those delicate ornaments. They go on the tree every year. Gotta have my snowflakes.

Snowflakes, yes. Spider webs? No. Though I can see where some of them closely resemble spider webs.

Even then, after I told him that those spider webs were indeed snowflakes, I heard him talking near the tree, "spider web, spider web, spider web..."

To me, female, 52, those white things are beautiful snowflakes.

To him, male, 5, those white things are straight from the curled fingers of Spiderman. Spider. Webs.

The Tree Event - aka - My Free Tree

As requested, here are a few additional photos of our lovely Festival of Trees free tree. Actually, the $5 tree. One raffle ticket = $5. As a personal disclaimer, it is very difficult to take photos of a lit tree (only the lights show up) and an unlit tree (not as exciting as the lights). Feel free to use your imagination.

Since I didn't think I would win, I was fine with contributing to the cause.

At future events, I'm sure I will make up it all up by buying a ticket and not winning.

Notice the width of the tree base as compared to the van opening!

The beginning of the destruction...

Some of the beautiful decorations on the tree.

Owls, berry sprigs, grape vines, pinecones, and floral pieces were combined to great effect. I do have to say that we were not able to return the sweeps of grape vines to their former beauty. Poor, sad vines did not survive the trip very well.

Gold ribbon bows and wide burlap ribbons are spread throughout the tree.

Feathers, berries, and twigs adorn the tree. You may notice that most of the feathers have been placed on the top of the tree. The kitties thought they had captured a live bird when they found some feathers. We had to chase them through the house, growling and hissing. (The kitties growled and hissed, not us.)

The overall effect of the nature themed ornaments is very beautiful.

Feathers do not lend themselves to photos. But I love them in the tree.

Using a flash just doesn't do justice to the tree.

Yes. We do have kitties. Why do you ask?

The theme wrapped presents (props) are adorning the top of the TARDIS. Beneath them is a huge sheet of loosely woven burlap. It is perfect.

Thanks for checking out our tree. I encourage you to find a Festival of Trees next year. It was so much fun.

For now, I love my tree. So do the kitties.

Grandma and a Certain Reindeer

It's true.

There could have been instances back in November, perhaps even earlier, that a certain Christmas movie was requested by a short three-year-old. And Nana let her watch it.

One day, out of the blue, while we were waiting for something, the girl (let's just call her Khloe) looked at me sideways.

"Nana," she said, "If there is a grandma, and a reindeer, and she hits it, . . ."

What? I really had to connect my brain to figure out what she was thinking.

Little Thinker Girl tried again. "If there is a grandma, and a reindeer, and it gets hit, ..." and then she paused to consider how to express her concerns.

Might I add that she was regarding me with a 'you are in trouble' look, accusing me of something.

OH. I finally realized what she was talking about. There is a preview about a cartoon based on the song "Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" before one of the Christmas movies. Khloe had watched the preview. And connected.

Here was her Nana. Surely Nana wouldn't hit a reindeer, would she? And if she did, that is not right.

Kids are always paying attention, even when we don't think so!

After I reassured her that what she was thinking about was a song, though she reversed who was hit by whom, we were good. She seemed to understand that the song and the movie were not real.

Dodged another bullet. Or a car hitting a reindeer. Or a grandma hitting a reindeer. Or grandma getting run over by a reindeer.

Oh, the joys and laughter we share when we love our little ones.

Love it, love it, love it.

Festival of Trees - The Tree I Won. Henceforth Known as "The Tree Event"

The fact that my man had to stand on a very tall ladder to wrap the tree was a portend of troubles to come.

The good news is that we are still married. It was kind of touch and go there for awhile.

This story starts on the Friday before Thanksgiving. Actually, the subject of visiting the Festival of Trees came up the night before. Grandma Quantrell had gone on a 'field trip' to see the Festival of Trees at Living Care. She loved it so much that she wanted me to go.

And the funny thing is, I had already decided I would pick up Hayden from school and take both he and Khloe to see the trees. And reindeer. And have hot cocoa and cookies.

Our first walk through the beautiful trees.

So we did just that. In the freezing rain, literally, we rode the shuttle bus to the Festival of Trees. We sang "The Wheels on the Bus" while riding the shuttle. We checked out the soaking wet reindeer. We walked the Festival of Trees walkway. We voted for our favorite trees. (Hayden loved the Seahawks tree, Khloe loved the snowman tree, and I loved the coppery decorated one.) We had hot cocoa and cookies. Khloe talked to a real live princess (she was wearing a crown).

And I bought one raffle ticket.

The Festival of Trees was, after all, a fund raiser for the senior community. I loved the forest theme of the Yakima Valley Vineyard Tree and dropped my raffle ticket in the box, with absolutely no expectations. It was just a beautiful tree.

And we went home.

My honey, during the Tree Event - he was still smiling.

Saturday evening, my honey (notice he is my honey at this point in the story) and I were at a retirement party. I received a message. Listening to it, I was thinking, Hey, I don't know any Jennifer.

And then she got to the part where I had won the tree!

My tree, wrapped in plastic, ready to go home

Talk about excitement and surprise. Which was immediately replaced by concern about how big was the tree actually, and how would we get it home, and how would we make it beautiful after the transport?

If I was thinking these things, you can bet the man was thinking them. And beginning to problem solve.

But first, he just grumbled. I knew he was not as happy about my win as I was.

That was when the fun began.

Uhm? How?

First. How to get the tree home. The very big tree. For us, it was only about 7 blocks. But it was a big tree. Nine feet of tree. With many, many ornaments. And, we found out, a mini wine barrel, bottles of wine, pretend presents, and all sorts of additional cool things that made the tree a knock-out beauty.

After borrowing a van from work (thank you!), we headed to the Festival of Trees. Where our tree was plastic wrapped in an attempt to keep the ornaments in place.

Just in case you want to know, nine feet of tree plus ornaments do not stay in place, regardless of plastic wrap.

Let's count the feet...

On the Living Care end, they had excellent help. It took six men, at least, to maneuver our tree into the van. I counted the pairs of feet. It was heavy. "You need to get some help," we were told, "this baby weighs a lot."

Here is the hitch. My husband. He's a man. A man. A man who does not care to ask for help. Did not want to disturb the neighbors. They might be busy. Or gone. Or sleeping. We can do it ourselves. (Note: This man is wonderful when someone else needs help. He will drop what he's doing and rush right in the middle of things. But asking for help? Think again. I might add, this is a reoccurring theme in our marriage. With sometimes painful results and threats of sending him back home with his mom.)

It hurts. Poor tree!

Well. Without help, we managed to drag, damage, destroy, and smash the tree through the front door. It came apart into three separate pieces. Which came in useful later on. Kevin sustained major nerve damage in one hand, pinching a nerve when the folding tree branches folded across his wrist. Because he would not ask for help. And the short wife wasn't tall enough to keep all the important parts off the ground.

Also, at this point, we were very angry with each other, and certain things were said that should not be repeated in polite society. Maybe the neighbors would have helped, but were afraid to intervene. Let's just say that we both later apologized.

The tree, in three barely connected parts, strangled with plastic wrap nooses, lay mangled on the floor. Disappointment filled the house. I left to do my prep for a certain 'procedure' the next day while my man worked hours trying to fix the problem. After sawing off a part of the base, and still NO GO on the tree actually fitting in our house, I realized the parts of the tree. "We should just take off the bottom part of the tree."

Duh. Yes. We both should have said, "Duh."

Our beautiful tree! Kameo Flower Shop did a gorgeous job. After 'The Tree Event,' my man repaired it in a magnificent fashion.

After that, the man worked miracles. Even with removing a third or so of the tree, he did a wonderful job rearranging ornaments, swags, owls, pinecones, feathers, and lights. What we have now is again the gorgeous tree that I chose as recipient of my raffle ticket. A beauty to the eye of this girl. And her kitties.

Oh, and by the way, it may be a year-round-tree. The man does not want to touch it again. Not to mention that the complexity of the tree and its' ornaments is worthy of some sort of prize in organic structure and planning.

Feel free to drop in and see our monument to the strength of long-term marriage.

Merry Christmas!

P.S. Grandma Quantrell was in my camp. She was ecstatic about my tree win, having seen it. She also appreciated the struggle the tree represented, having lived through many such situations when Grandpa Quantrell was alive. You could say she had first hand experience with similar 'events.'

Time to Trim the French Christmas Tree?

"Nana, look at this, look at this!" called a very enthusiastic grandbaby.

Me? I was like, "Yes, I see the Christmas trees. Aren't they pretty?"

"Nana, come see! Come see!" repeated the insistent child.

Nana thought that perhaps the girl was in love with any number of trees. But once I arrived, it was a French tree she saw for me. That girl identified with my love of France, having seen the numerous Eiffel Towers on display throughout our home and car. Yes, car. And now she found the perfect tree for me.

Et voila! La Tour Eiffel Arbre de Noel.

The French Christmas tree of Eiffel the Tower. All arranged most beautifully with glitter, glam, and sparkle. And it could be mine for a certain sum.

I jest. But I was sincerely touched that my grandchildren (Big Brother was in on it as well) made the connection of something important to Nana and a beautiful object found in the store. I think they both would have loved buying it for me. Come to think of it, I would love to buy it for myself.

Maybe this Nana needs to get one of those French Christmas trees. Or at least plan a Christmas tree theme for all things French.

But that is a big project. Maybe next year.

For now, my little helpers and I will focus on the fake tree (sentimental ornaments), the cat tree (cat ornaments), and the Starbucks tree (coffee ornaments).

Merry Christmas.

P.S. It wasn't that long ago that a certain nephew was wondering about the French castles hanging from my rear view mirror. Those castles are also called La Tour Eiffel (s). But from a little guy who spent time growing up in England, the land of castles, he named it just right based on his experience. Love it.