Holiday Planning

[azurelunatic]

I came home to the smell of baking last night. The artificial tree was up and decorated, and there was a wreath on the door. The apartment smells faintly of machine oil of some sort (the tree), but everything was pretty and shiny.

Alas for the non-pettable tree. Touching the thing makes my hands itch.

Comments

[dawn-again.livejournal.com]

Yanno, if you go to somewhere that sells freshly killed xmas trees, usually they'll let you have any branches that they've had to cut off fer nuttin.

Lay a few of those on the "inside" of the artificial tree and it'll make it smell pine-y good.

[azurelunatic]

It's the "killed" part that's problematical. Certain roommates of mine are tree-huggers, of the "That tree is dying. It gives me a headache," sensitivity.

[kokuten.livejournal.com]

Every year at this time, I remember a winter festivity setup that I assisted in, at a friend of the family's. This friend was quite Financially Powerful, and her house, tastes, and spending habits reflected this. However, she managed to still be an earthy, wonderful person.

(large amounts of money spent on _art_ and _books_ does not a Rich Bitch make)

This Winter Festivity, she let the Dogs of War out. This resulted in a ~35 foot tree, multiple _pounds_ of gold incorporated into the ornamentation (much of this courtesy of her family's legacy of Gold Mining), many, MANY lights, and a VERY tasteful and well-chosen assemblage of assisting ornamentation..

The end effect was akin to a fairy wonderland. I remember moseying out of her kitchen, where her and my mother 'labored over a hot oven' (check the pie for me, son, I'm busy gossiping.. yes mother) preparing the Feast, and into the main room. I stood below the loft, looking around, soaking in the sights, smells, and sounds (courtesy of a wonderful audio system I have since rebuilt for her, and a local classical radio station), and I looked up and saw mistletoe..

and I thinks to myself "huh. I don't need to be kissed, I'm already as happy as I _could_ be"

ever since then, I just content myself with the memories, and don't bother with the expense and labor of decoration. I suspect this will change when I'm not working soul-crushing manual labor, or when I have children.

[azurelunatic]

That sounds delightful.

My Winter Festivity Memories mainly center around jam sessions at one of my parents' delightful potluck dinners. There are few things better than munching on left-over cooled-off teriyaki beef grilled outside over alder coals while listening to live Celtic music.