I rose at the insane hour of 6:15 this morning to accompany my dear little sister to her ballet recital. She performed very well, dancing without looking at the instructor, and her class was by far the best in her recital group. On the way out we stopped to admire the singing bears which appear every Christmas at this hall. I have fond memories of competing with them during high school choir caroling.
My little sister hasn't seen them in years and she was fascinated.
Once we arrived home, nap time became my first priority, but mother had other ideas. Around mid afternoon we dragged out the artificial tree and started testing the lights. Only half of the small lights worked, so we supplemented it with five extra light strings, one of which gave me a sharp electrical shock when my thumb found a broken light. I'd smashed the light years ago in a door jamb while at college. It, apparently, had been holding a grudge. Father most graciously helped mother and I as we lit the dark patches of the tree.
And we left it at that. The ornaments will be hung up tomorrow or whenever mother decides she's tired of boxes cluttering half the couch. So there was no need for the tree skirt just yet. Our dog, Sandy, decided to claim it. At first she merely lay on it, but then she pawed it into folds and circled to find just the right spot. Doesn't she look guilty?
Needless to say, not much writing got done today except for this post, however I will get back on track tomorrow. I always write something on Sundays.
Our soundtrack for the tree raising was Irish Christmas by Craig Duncan and the Smoky Mountain Band. I cranked up the volume on my laptop and it blasted the music for the whole house to hear. It carries memories of my grandparents' house as that was where I first heard it. Click here to sample this wonderful CD!
Until next time!