Oh, Christmas Tree

Mom's back in the hospital, so I dabbled with the idea of taking you on a tour of the hospital. You know..."Here's the lavatory. Note the stainless handrails on either side of the commode. And if you turn your attention to the sleeping alcove, just beyond the vintage television (circa 1980) you'll spot the water stains on the cork ceiling tiles. Where's that handy Carter Oosterhouse when you need him?" At times like these we turn to laughter to get us through, but I thought better of my medical center tour lest anyone from Julia's Hooked on Holiday Houses Tour or Southern Hospitality's Deck the Halls 2008 extravaganza stumble over here and think I've completely lost my mind. :-)

Instead, I'm taking you on a tour of our Christmas tree. Yup; the mighty tannenbaum.

We decided the tree would go in our apartment (as opposed to the shore house, even though it's our first Christmas at the house) so you'll also get a little peek at "shore house north," if you will.

When we erect a tree we don't mess around.


This one, just about nine feet tall, is one of the smallest we've had (we've downsized). And there's nothing fancy we do to it -- it's strung with multi-color lights, and topped with a vintage sparkly star.

But it's the ornaments that tell the story. I know where each and every one came from, and every year when I open the boxes they are stored in...well, it's like Christmas! A whole slew went missing this year and I panicked. Did I leave them on the street in the migration to the shore house? Bring them to Salvation Army on one of my cleaning benders? Thankfully, they were found safely tucked away in the shore house basement this weekend (we're not use to having a basement and forget that one stores things there).

There's a dizzying number of ornaments.

But I figured I'd share a few.

I love the New York Yankees. L.O.V.E. So my man bought this one for me a few years ago. The little stadium windows light up. Which makes me happy.

I also played basketball...up until a couple of years ago, in fact (and need to start again. That sport whips your behind into shape quicker than you can say, "Pass the cookie."). My mom bought this for me the first year I lived on my own:

In college I was addicted to the TV show Northern Exposure (there could be much worse things to be addicted to in college) so my friend Emily (fellow addict and my first college friend) bought me this moose ornament from Maine.


We're skiers, so there's a few skiing Santas on the tree. Here's one from my mom:

I was born in Staten Island, NY. This is a replica of the ferry you'd take to lower Manhattan if you were a commuter from The Forgotten Borough.

My grandpa was born in Glasgow, Scotland, so here's a tribute to my roots with a bagpipe playing Santa.

Oh, Elvis. The more Elvis, the better. For reals. We think this has something to do with the fact that I "saw" Elvis in concert in Las Vegas while I was in utero. I guess it had a lasting effect on me!

"Jump suit" Elvis was acquired this year on a road trip to Pennsylvania, so he's making his tree debut.

And Army Elvis, a gift from my brother, sings "I'll Be Home for Christmas." Swoon...

Two of my newest ornaments were hostess gifts at last weekend's cookie swap...

...which I'll talk more about in my next post, along with a holiday gift giveaway donated by one of my artsy craftsy friends. The hint is "bling," so if bling's your thing please come back.

And if the holidays are your thing, head back over to the Hooked on Holiday Houses Tour, or to Cottage Magpie's Virtual Cookie Exchange.