Deck The Halls

In little bits and pieces all over the course of the past two weeks, I have been getting my flat ready for Christmas.   My ideal decorating scenario for the holidays is one where it looks like an elf upchucked magic all over my doors and walls, so I do declare my home to be ready for Christmas although I have very little space and even less money: I have stuck ribbon bows on every surface, hung fairy lights over every window, and strung baubles into garlands and taped them onto the ceiling.  There seems to be some sort of fetish at the moment amongst design aficionados for minimalist/Scandinavian holiday decor, but my attitude towards the whole season is along the lines of "more is more."  (Next year, when I'm in a bigger place, I'll take photos of my madness for you.)

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As you know, I'm a bit iffy about having a Christmas tree in my house when I'm the only official resident.  We had a splendid little tree last year when I lived with Jon and the boys, and I have to admit that I'm looking forward to sharing Jon's again in 2012.  I bring this up now because Jon and I have hied ourselves to his parents' house in Suffolk for the annual Christmas Tree Weekend, which is excellent because I'm a bit desperate to bedeck a fir.

Neil Gaiman, a nice Jewish boy if there ever was one, understands my cross-cultural yearnings: "We were not jealous of friends who got Christmas presents," he writes of his childhood.  "We were jealous of the friends with Christmas trees.  Having a Christmas tree was what Christmas was all about.  It had nothing to do with mangers and shepherds and Wise Men.  Not as far as we were concerned.  It was trees all the way, properly decorated ones, with tinsel and glass balls and a star on the top."

So I'm delighted that, this weekend, I will be a crucial member of the tree-choosing committee as well as an enthusiastic participant in the tree-decorating process.  Photos to follow, of course!