On Friday we returned to the same place Scott and I have gotten our tree for (I think) the past 10 years. Owen was not the least bit interested in choosing a tree, though. He spent most of his time trying to reunite Fraser Firs with their broken branches and collecting the twine littered about the lot.
Owen makes a lot of musician faces in pictures lately. Mostly of the death metal variety.
Last night we celebrated Scott's birthday and put up the tree.
So Norman Rockwell, right?
Hmmph. Just past the point of no return in the decorating process, I noticed an ominous puddle spreading in the corner behind the tree. Our old tree stand/bucket had sprung a leak. The thought of having to take everything down again made Owen quite weepy... and me homicidal. So Scott put Owen to bed while I bailed water, mopped and pouted.
Within the hour, our Mr. Fix-it neighbor came over and solved the problem - without us having to un-decorate the tree. Thanks Chris!
Now Owen and I can spend the day sipping hot chocolate, watching old Christmas movies and decorating the tree. I'm sure it will go just the way I see it in my mind (wry smile).