Down Comes The Tree

Earlier this week, Herself denuded and put away the Christmas tree.  Although she normally does not particularly enjoy this task, it was interesting this year because the Offspring had put on all the ornaments themselves.  It was a delightful mix of all kinds of things.

There were  Star Wars ornaments; nutshell babies; various Sponge Bob decorations; half a dozen angels that Herself's grandfather collected for free from the local pharmacy in Herself's home town thirty-five years ago; glass balls decorated with permanent markers by the Offspring when they were in their early teens; a TARDIS; multiple handmade God's Eyes from grade school projects; ornaments from Herself's mother-in-law; handmade, lopsided, odd little bits; photographs from days gone by glued to paper wreaths along with golden-spraypainted macaroni bits; Giant Microbes; some sort of weaving that resembled a pot holder; a handful of ornaments from Herself's youth; a badminton birdie; and other items. 

It was magnificent.

 Even when she could not identify exactly what the ornament was, she knew that one of the Offspring had especially selected it for the tree. It warmed Herself's heart tremendously to see all the pieces of her youth, and the span of the years of the Offspring, intermingled. 

Lovely Offspring. Thank you for your grace, cheer, and consideration throughout the holidays. You are marvelous human beings, and it is our privilege to know you. 

Hand-crafted with care: 

pipe cleaner, safety pins, jingle bells, and foam palm tree leaves. Perfect.