Our Christmas stockings were really the highlight of the day - unfortunately for my parents, we had no mantle on which to hang them, so they were hung on the end of our bed frames. This was no problem for my sisters - those sisters who fell right to sleep and slept through anything. This was a problem for me. And for my poor, sleep-deprived parents. I was so jigged about Santa coming that I could not sleep a wink! They had to wait me out. I think they were greatly relieved when I found out there was no actual Santa Claus. In our stockings, among the tangerines, gold covered chocolate coins, and new pair of socks, were some real treasures - a horse model (oh Heaven!), handknit mittens (from Mama Claus), tool kit (oh Double Dog Heaven!) Whatever we received, we were thrilled beyond words to get it. I remember sitting on the floor in the living room, my parents on the sofa, coffee in hand, while we took turns opening ours and bringing them their gifts, too. It was a wonderful time.
Why I do not have a live (or any) Christmas tree. Simple: Catz. Back in a prior life, when I was married, we had a great house that just cried out for a Christmas tree. So off to the back half acre I went and cut down a nice-sized tree. I had been schlepping ornaments around with me on my multiple moves for years - how nice to be able to actually display them! The tree went up, lights and ornaments went on, a festive, holiday adult beverage was enjoyed by the fire and then off to bed. I should interject here that we had two cats - Figaro and Newton (get it? nudge, nudge, wink, wink) Fig was a lunatic and Newton was my boy. Very early Christmas morning I awoke, blinked and blinked again. My half of the bed was completely covered with ornaments. Only my half. Ex got nada. Says something for the wisdom of catz... Of course, I am implying that this was a GOOD thing. Ahem.