It has reached the merriest of all seasons; at least, according to the songs and paraphernalia that has been front and centre at the supermarkets and oversized shopping malls for the last 6 or so months.
T’is, indeed, according to folklore, the season to be jolly.
I’m always up for jolly merriment. Indeed, am also up for a considerable amount of merry jolliment, too.
Mustering up the time for all the merry and jolly of the season at this moment is lost in the amount of ‘stuff’ we have going on right now. For t’is also the busy season for many.
Whether this be the orientation of children into their next level of education; from pre-school to school to high school, or whatever. T’is also the season for end of year everything; dance concerts, office breakups, just an excuse for a party and do to bugger all at work.
We had the orientation into high school thing (that was fun) and the graduation of same child on the same day. We had the return of another child from an overseas jaunt, and I am still finding my way with the lateset project work I have scored.
Admittedly, I gave up the perfect Christmas tree the second year I attempted to decorate it perfectly; for I doth suck at such perfection of beauty and symmetry. It is, I believe, a special gift I possss.
Along came children, and with them the bringing home from their places of care whilst I was very busy feeding my mind and doing other things I greatly enjoyed, the child-made Christmas decorations.
Although vastly different from the view in my head of the ideal, shop-window worthy vision of Christmas tree glory, I am a sucker for sentimental things. Coupled with my gift of making a gloriously decorated tree look like it had been pulled through a hedge backwards, I merely let go of my expectations and involved the kids in the decorating of the tree.
T’was also my excuse for having the tree look more Mish Mash than Christmas. The term Mish Mash itself came from the second of my offspring, whom was unable to form the correct sounds to say Christmas, and it sounded awfully like Mish Mash.
It stuck, and was very much in tune with how our Christmas tree came to look, how our house appeared during this festively jolly period of the year, and remarkably similar to how well our minds were functioning.
This year, with Mish Mash at it’s peak in all areas of our lives, I could barely muster the enthusiasm to be vertical, much less bend over, lift arms, climb ladders, and put stuff on a deliciously smelling pine tree.
I did muster enough enthusiams to retrieve the box of decorations, then hand the task entirely over to the children.
They, filled with about as much energy and desire as I and the Grumpy One, set about decorating the tree.
I am pleased to say they maintained the tradition and we are now the delighted owners of the most Mished and Mashed tree we have ever been in possession of.
I was also given the sage advice, after declaring the smell of the tree to be so amazingly delicious, that it is not advisable to eat Christmas trees, because you’ll get splinters on your tongue. So just in case you were thinking of eating one, don’t, okay?
What’s your Christmas, or Mish Mash, tradition? Are you a tree perfectionist or more mish mash? Or somewhere in between?