The Christmas explosion

We are bored. Completely and totally bored. If it wasn’t bad enough that we have had either rain or freezing rain- so we couldn’t go for long walks- her highness decided to ignite the Christmas explosion. So at various points in time we have been sequestered in the front hall while she lugged boxes around the house. She sequestered us because she didn’t want to trip over us, especially going up and down stairs.

Our house looks like 100 drunken elves took over and decided to throw a party. You cannot turn you head without looking at an ornament, a tree, wreath, an elf, a Santa or a nativity scene. And of course, there is “the” tree. Which is NOT what you would expect….

Her highness put out all this “stuff” and then announced she was not going to the tree farm. Or the tree lot. She was again going to cut a tree in the woods behind/around our house. The ones we have probably peed on at some point. Einstein just rolled his eyes. Ever see a tree in the wild? No? Well let me tell you it doesn’t look like any tree on a tree lot. Or on a tree farm. Picture a stick. With a few needles. But before I continue I should tell you a little story about her highness and trees…

Hundreds of years ago (in dog years), when her highness was a child, she lived in a city. And she and her parents and sister would go to the closest farmers market to pick out their Christmas tree. They would pick out what they thought was THE prettiest tree on the lot. But even though it was THE prettiest, her highness” father would set up the tree in the living room and would drill holes in the “bare spots.” He would then insert extra branches they bought at the tree lot. Oh. And he strung up branches so they wouldn’t droop. He also made sure that NO branch touched one of the lights – as they got hot and he didn’t want to start a fire. Her father was a bit of a tree fanatic. If there is such a thing. Anyway, their house never thankfully burned down from a tree fire, and the strung up branches supported many glass ornaments over the years.

So fast forward several hundred dog years, and we have her highness. She’s been going to tree lots or tree farms for years now. And our tree was always photo worthy. That’s the only time during the holidays that we would be allowed in the DFZ. The time to take our Christmas photo.

Anyway, despite the fact that she is now retired and she theoretically has more “time” on her hands, for some reason she just didn’t feel like getting a tree from a lot or a farm. She didn’t feel like lugging up the additional 56 boxes from the basement. She decided to cut her own tree, as I mentioned, and it wouldn’t, in theory, take so many ornaments.

Well here’s a newsflash. If you have fewer branches, you can actually see the ornaments better. And ironically, you need LOTS of ornaments to fill up those few branches. So instead of 56 boxes, she only needed 49. Said the dogs who were counting while sequestered in the front hall.

And the final result? Despite all the ornaments and all her efforts, I think her father is looking down and shaking his head.

She should probably drill some holes like he did, but if she does, it’s likely the holes will cause the thing to topple. It has a unique look. A VERY unique look. I told Einstein to stop shaking his head – and instead wag his tail. Her highness needs the reinforcement. Besides, if she takes it down and goes to get a REAL tree, we’ll be sequestered. Again. So I think it looks absolutely stunning.

By the way, does Santa take away gifts if he catches you telling a lie?

Have a good one. Peace and paws up.