It's Inside That Counts

Last weekend was the annual bringing home of the tree and all the excitement that goes with. The boys planned to play hide and seek at the lot.  "I have a lost little boy at the information desk.  If you are missing one, please claim him."  We were and we did.  It was very cold, which Mr. Blandings enjoys because it make me choose faster.  They all seem to look pretty good as the wind is blowing in your face and your eyes are watering.  Next, add 400 ornaments.  Based on Christopher's tree I decided what mine had been missing was ball garland.  Better.  Needs more still.

The only thing really missing for the tree trimming was the needlepoint ornaments that I stitch for the boys each year.  They were finished yesterday and I picked them up so they could join the party.  When they were little I chose the design but now they get to pick.  The middle chose his turtle, Custard.

The eldest wanted to memorialize the Chicago trip with the Sears Tower.

And the third, "I am not a baby," chose a Lego.

They've had a lot of fun designing them from year to year and they are fast and easy projects.

So these, and the ones we give on Thanksgiving, will someday be packed up to be hung on their own trees.

I'm worried that the tree will begin to be a little bare.

I could stitch for Mr. Blandings,

but it isn't quite the same.

Anyway, the tree is up, the frames are out, the stockings are hung.  The big fun will be adding stocking for daughters-in-law and grandchildren someday.  "You forgot.  I'm not getting married; I'm going to be a rock star."  Oh, maybe next year a guitar.  Or some drums.  I think I'll stop just short of the hypodermic needle.

("She sure is talking about herself a lot this week."  "Be patient. She never stays on topic long.")