putting up the tree . . .

I could have written about so many things tonight but, in the spirit of simple pleasures, putting up the Christmas tree bubbled up to the top of the list.

This is no small feat, having the tree up and decorated the Saturday after Thanksgiving.  After two consecutive years of two-week-long, if that, wonders (AKA having the tree up and decorated), it's almost a minor miracle!  Of course there were reasons for both years' late arrivals and early departures, difficult reasons that demanded that Christmas this year be easier somehow. Putting up the tree is a beginning . . .

As I struggled with where did I pack the stand and the rug and the angel topper?--sensible packing decisions once I retraced my mental steps--I had an idea!  Why not photograph this solitary ritual of mine, tell through pictures the story of how this tree came to be?

The first solitary ritual tree--a Norfolk Island pine that long-ago Christmas of 1994--had nine foil paper cranes (one lost her way four Christmases ago . . .), a rocking horse, a ceramic snowflake studded with flowers, a pair of miniature bears (Hallmark's "Friends need a Hug") . . .  Only one of this year's ornaments predates that most difficult and loneliest of Christmases . . .  The silver ball with the pink rose first hung on a family Christmas tree when I was two . . . 

Each ornament has a story, a meaning.  The collection has evolved over time, mostly through gifts from others . . . 

May Christmas this year be a time of joy and wonder, a maker of treasured memories . . .