Who knows, I may talk about Christmas stuff a few more days, or maybe not again at all until some random and incongruous date in the future.
Every few years, I seem compelled to go through our decorations and purge some because we have too many or they no longer align with my interests. I’ve never been a theme tree person, doing everything in red or using bows or paying homage to some era or city (I did once buy ornaments and do a Mardi Gras tree, though at that time, I’d never been to New Orleans or to Mardi Gras anywhere, but the colors were nice and the ornaments were cheap and we were on a tighter budget in those years).
I like my trees to be weird and wonderful, a hodgepodge of things we like and things other people give us. The ornaments are fabric, metal, glass, plastic, ceramic, and wood. Some are expensive (these are most often the gifts) and hang in harmony side by side with the damaged ones I buy at after-Christmas sales as well as the beautiful ones that catch light and shimmer. Apparently, I like my trees to be diverse, quirky, slightly unpredictable, offbeat, profound, funny, regal, and classic all at the same time. Maybe they remind me of the most interesting people I know.
After Christmas this year, I didn’t purge anything. I mostly reorganized it so decorating will be easier next time. One of the things I did was put a lot of the stuff we’ve gotten from Tom’s mother/parents through the years into the same bin, even if it’s not all for decoration. Some of it is stuff that she saved from Tom’s childhood. I may get more than one post out of this, so I’ll start with this little wooden zoo.
The animals are TINY. For whatever reason, I decided I wanted to put it together, so I took a break from UNdecorating and sat at the breakfast room table to do that, while Tom and/or Debby were in and out.
“Some of the fence rails are missing,” I told Tom, “and at least one is shorter than the others. They keep falling out of the corner pieces.”
“I think it’s designed to help children learn patience,” he suggested.
“It’s not doing much for this Aries adult.”
When I finally got the pens up (having to let them share one set of rails because of the missing pieces), I turned my attention to the animals.
“I can’t even determine what some of these animals are,” I said.
“That one’s a squirrel,” Debby said and pointed.
“Then that squirrel is as big as whatever this black dog-looking thing is. In fact, I think this entire zoo is pretty sketchy. The giraffe and elephant may go together, but what is this? A donkey?”
More discussion ensued, but I think I finally figured it out. It is a black wolf, just a jump over a couple of slender rails away from a sheep. The donkey is there to stop him and save the sheep. There’s logic here.
So, Great Aunt Francis who bought this zoo in New York for wee Tom, if it’s supposed to be an allegory for how disparate creatures must coexist, be hard to judge by their appearance, help curb one another’s impulses to be predatory, and not always find themselves in the classiest or most stable place, then you chose well.
In truth, this whole getup is also a lot like my Christmas trees.
