In France Christmas begins on Christmas Eve and continues twelve days until Epiphany. The moment before Christmas is called Advent which is a time to prepare the way for the feast of Christmas. But we all know that.
Growing up my Mom took Christmas down on the 26th. Christmas was a done deal. Packed up and stored in the closet until next year.
Lucky for me I was not considered "late" (in France) to put up our Christmas tree this weekend. It is a production to put up a Christmas tree, isn't it? First one must find the Christmas boxes that are stashed in the storage. Secondly, since our Christmas tree stands in a spot that usually occupies a large piece of furniture, the entire house had to be moved around so that it had its spot. The part that I enjoy is putting on the lights (NOT) and the ornaments (TRUE) which is lucky for me because in our home the tradition is:
That nobody wants to help… yet everyone wants Christmas they just don't want to help put it up.
Well, this weekend after I put the Christmas tree up with its million little vintage ornaments I stepped back singing "Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree how lovely are your branches…." when POW (!!!) the Christmas tree fell over. Smashing mercury glass ornaments everywhere. My heart sank. I was sad to sweep the broken ornaments into the bin.
Slowly, I remounted the Christmas tree and reconstructed the decor. Adding a bow here, a star there and feeling a tinge of sadness that some of my favorite ornaments had been smashed to smithereens. Finally, it was dolled up and looking festive again. I was relieved. I stepped back and…guess what… yes believe it… it fell a second time!
I swore like a crazy elf! A million big juicy swear words sorted out of my bouche (mouth) and it felt good. I called the Christmas tree an exceptionally juicy bad word. One that I do not want to write but I said it fervently a few times over. You know sometimes it helps to blow up, to spew bad words and let your face get contorted. It helps to let frustrations out is a safe way. I guess the Christmas tree's falling over allowed me an avenue to blow off steam.
I left the "F-ing" Christmas tree on the floor. When French Husband and the children came home they looked at the Christmas tree in shock then to me, "Mom, why is the Christmas tree on the floor?"
"Modern Art", is what I said.
This morning I put the Christmas tree upright and it is standing strong, a few bricks at the base helped.
Yes, even people who once lived in a monastery swear at times, even while preparing for Christmas.
Photo: Of the tree that dares not fall again.
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