Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree

Don and I got our Christmas tree this weekend. This is our fourth Christmas as a married couple, so we’ve kind of developed a few traditions. We get our tree at Lowe’s, and Dasha goes with us. (Nash will probably never get to go to Lowe’s because of his tendency to lift his leg and leave his mark on every new thing he encounters.) We bring the tree home and set it up in the corner of the living room. We turn on Christmas music, and Don puts the lights on it, and then we get out our ornaments. We both have moms who have always made sure we were well-supplied with Christmas ornaments, so we collectively have a lot of them. We’ve kept them stored separately, which helps us remember whose are whose, plus we have acquired a few together since getting married. As we decorate the tree, we review memories attached to certain ornaments.
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I have several favorites. One is a "Tennessee" ball that my parents gave me about 20 years ago. It’s part of a collector series of all 50 states, but I only have Tennessee.
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This is another of my favorites. It was given to me several years ago by one of the kids in a Sunday School class I taught. It closes up and looks like a Bible, but opens to reveal a scripture and a mini nativity scene.
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I got this one at an ornament exchange party. It hooks into the string of lights and lights up, changing colors periodically.
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Don’s favorite is his "naked skiing Santa." He’s had it since he was a little kid. I’m not sure why he likes it so much; it’s kind of obnoxious. Maybe that’s his reason. But I indulge him by letting him place it in a prominent place on the tree. Whatever.
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I also have a special tree skirt that my mom made for me. She made my brother one too. It has pictures representing each of the "Twelve Days of Christmas" that she cross-stitched. I know it took her many, many hours to make. A tag she put on the underside says "1991."
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Hauling in a live tree and decorating it, only to un-decorate it, take it down and haul it away a few weeks later, leaving massive amounts of needles in its path before, during and after, really is a lot of trouble if you think about it, but it’s one of those things that I enjoy about Christmas, even though it has little if any spiritual significance. It’s pretty, it makes for good memories, and it sure does make my house smell good.