Tree

I'm trying pretty hard not to be smug. Having officially beaten out my inner Scrooge, we have Christmas at our house. Hours earlier, I had been talking to Sus on the phone. I could practically smell the butternut squash soup Alex was meticulously preparing 3000 miles away, and Sus must have been sipping on some frothy, brown ale while chasing kids around their Christmas tree. I told her we weren't getting a tree because there wasn't any room for one and I hate tiny trees. I always feel weird telling her this because she's from the desert and has often had a tiny tree. If you're from Oregon however....

It is true though. We don't have any room. For anything. Based on the sizes of the houses directly behind us, I'm willing to believe we live in a converted garage. This isn't to say it's the smallest house I've lived in. I've actually lived in a few much smaller, but not with three other people and a couple of dogs. And honestly the four smallest take up a lot more room than their heights and weights suggest. We rented this place based on the yard. When my mom first asked about the house she laughed as I described every single tree in the yard, but nothing about the house.

And then Brian and Rowan arrived later in the day with a big, fat Christmas tree tied to the top of the car. Within seconds they blew my bah humbugginess down the hill to join the the smog nestled below in the San Gabriel Valley.

"But wait, is that tree outside?" You ask. Yes, with the rest of the trees. That is where trees are normally. Better yet you ask, "Is that a Ginkgo leaf that adorable baby is hanging?" Why yes. It is! Good of you to notice. It has rained a couple of times this year. I'd hate to think of what would become of all the little wooden rocking horses I've amassed over the years. Or what kind of party the squirrels would have with shiny little breakable balls.

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Then you might ask, "Is that a lemon?" Yep. Also, sweetgum fruits and some Bougainvillea, shells, sand dollars, pine cones, and whatever else we could muster up and throw beads and glitter on.

It's really cool. I know! I got to play in glitter. Rowan got to play in glitter. Iris got to rub glitter all over her body. Brian got to...oh yeah, work. Bummer. I keep reminding him how cool our tree is though, so he's well informed. Maybe we'll put glitter on him while he's sleeping.  Now, you might also ask, "But why is there nothing on the bottom of the tree?" Well, that is because of the Iris dilemma. The little rat likes to smash, destroy, or devour anything that looks even remotely precious.

Anyhow, all this decorating has put us in the mood for hot buttered rum and cookies. I'm putting my ratty chef on the job now.

She's the only one small enough to work in our hallway of a kitchen.