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Ringing out from pine to oak
This year, trimming the tree first involved combing out handfuls of dry oak leaves from the branches of our Fraser fir. I have no idea. Possibly I shouldn't have invoked Robert Holdstock this afternoon.
Have a lot of pictures.
Gelt. Someone must have played dreydl for it at some point, because I remember overhearing the rules being explained. Hershel of Ostropol still does the best job with that.
In his deep-frying saucepan where my brother dropped him, Great Cthulhu bubbles slightly.
The Christmas cactus is blooming for Christmas. It's as surprised as anybody.
This is the oldest ornament I own. It was given to me by my grandparents, who never celebrated Christmas or had a tree in their house: I was two months old and my parents were raising me as a both-ways child. It's the first ornament I hang on a tree.
Sculpture in the foreground by my grandmother: it's called "Send in the Clowns." Sculpture in the background by my father: I don't know that it has a name. Ornaments belonging to me and my brother: I'd forgotten about the touring car.
Some ornaments in their natural habitat.
The woman with the pomegranate.
The woman with the pomegranate if you forgot your 3D glasses.
I am incapable of not thinking of this ornament as an oracular pig.
Our tree contains both a Star of David and Robot Santa. I like my family.
I have trouble getting the flash to stay off on this camera. The results are occasionally a lot more ominous than I was going for.
I have no idea, but it's cute.
A gold-dipped skeletal leaf with the shadow of a dove cast on it. Somebody's symbolism, knock yourself out.
This is in fact a mouse made from wrapping paper. The fact that it looks like circuitry has always just further endeared it to me.
Finally, the tree lights came out.
The plum pudding is steaming.
Have a lot of pictures.
Gelt. Someone must have played dreydl for it at some point, because I remember overhearing the rules being explained. Hershel of Ostropol still does the best job with that.
In his deep-frying saucepan where my brother dropped him, Great Cthulhu bubbles slightly.
The Christmas cactus is blooming for Christmas. It's as surprised as anybody.
This is the oldest ornament I own. It was given to me by my grandparents, who never celebrated Christmas or had a tree in their house: I was two months old and my parents were raising me as a both-ways child. It's the first ornament I hang on a tree.
Sculpture in the foreground by my grandmother: it's called "Send in the Clowns." Sculpture in the background by my father: I don't know that it has a name. Ornaments belonging to me and my brother: I'd forgotten about the touring car.
Some ornaments in their natural habitat.
The woman with the pomegranate.
The woman with the pomegranate if you forgot your 3D glasses.
I am incapable of not thinking of this ornament as an oracular pig.
Our tree contains both a Star of David and Robot Santa. I like my family.
I have trouble getting the flash to stay off on this camera. The results are occasionally a lot more ominous than I was going for.
I have no idea, but it's cute.
A gold-dipped skeletal leaf with the shadow of a dove cast on it. Somebody's symbolism, knock yourself out.
This is in fact a mouse made from wrapping paper. The fact that it looks like circuitry has always just further endeared it to me.
Finally, the tree lights came out.
The plum pudding is steaming.
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Lovely photographs, all of them. Thank you for sharing them.
Was it unfortunate that you had to remove the oak leaves? I'm sorry if it was, although it sounds to me like potentially a message from the oak trees, and perhaps not a bad one.
The Christmas cactus is blooming for Christmas. It's as surprised as anybody.
One of ours was a Veterans' Day cactus, this year. The other one might be showing a few blooms right now--I need to look at it again.
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Any message from the deepwood is probably a good sign.
I rather like the oldest-ornament. It's like a little disk of amber: precious.
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She's my mother's: she's almost forty years old. She's made of cornhusks.
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It was unexpected, but I wouldn't call it a bad omen.
One of ours was a Veterans' Day cactus, this year.
That's kind of awesome. Ours usually doesn't bloom at all.
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Yes. I didn't mind at all. I wonder what they spelled.
I rather like the oldest-ornament. It's like a little disk of amber: precious.
Thank you. It is important to me. I didn't have a tree when I lived in New Haven, but I always made sure when I came home for the holidays that I hung it here, in front of a gold tree light, so that it shone.
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Nine
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Thank you.
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Ursula Vernon illustrated a twig-jack from Lavondyss! I wish she'd done more.
I like the amber star very much, also your father's sculpture.
I will tell him! It's two-layered; it tells stories. I'll try to get a better shot.
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I don't see how it could hurt.
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Ours has always stayed in one piece, but the thread snapped years ago, so I just tuck it between soft branches and hang the angel over it. (I think of her as an angel, anyway. She's been one-winged as long as I can remember.)
We may have had the kid-on-a-rocking-horse too.
I don't know if they came as a pair, but I hang them as one. I have ornaments I never care where they go and ornaments that don't have to be on the tree at all and then I have ornaments I'll spend five minutes trying to place correctly, because I formed certain ideas about them when I was small and the glass dragon always needs to go in front of a light and the hobby-horse doesn't hang by its bridle and the sleeping child and the angel on the seahorse (because it didn't occur to me that it might just be a rocking-horse for years) are always together. And you can put the brightly colored zebra wherever, but its wire mane always needs to be smoothed down and bent into the proper curve, mostly denuded as it has been of tinsel over the years. I never thought of having my own tree when I grew up, but I find these are details I still observe.
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Almost everyone I want to photograph is almost as Tiny Richardson as I am! My family included!
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I can give you a version of the recipe we use: it's been tweaked and tinkered with over the years from ceremonial to edible to delicious, which I consider an actual victory. This year's was mostly candied orange peel, candied lemon peel, glacé apricots, sweet cherries, currants, dates, pineapple, and some figs, and it is two-thirds gone. It flamed beautifully on its way to the table and my pictures of it even came out. I may try to post some of them, in the spirit of holiday pyromania. We eat it with freshly whipped cream and all the brandy never quite burns off.