Christmas insanity

Today, I give you

Exhibit A: The Last-Minute Scarf in Farrow Rib

Got out all the presents yesterday and realised that my Dad's looked a bit meagre; so having ransacked my stash for something suitably male and neutral without any success, I ended up buying two balls of Felted Tweed at the local John Lewis in my Charmed Shopping Trip yesterday. (Capitalisation is rampant tonight; could be consuming a good share of a bottle of wine at teatime, accompanied by cake and good people who brought me vegetables, and a present...) The shopping trip was charmed because I got more-or-less everything I wanted in the space of an hour and five minutes; and some of it was at sale prices... Starting another piece of Christmas Knitting is evidently because I thrive on stress; can find no other explanation.

Exhibit B: The Possessive Cat



Because every present brought into a house inhabited by a cat belongs to that cat.

Exhibit C: The Christmas Tree

I love real trees; if I had a car, I'd bring a tree home and deck it out with all the trimmings. But I nearly killed myself carrying a relatively small one back from the local tree place a couple of years ago, so last year I ordered one of these metal ones from [a trusted supplier in] the US for me, and one for a friend. They took 2 months to arrive, and eventually turned up on January 4th, in a box entirely without padding which looked as if it had been repeatedly savaged by large wild beasts, and then stomped on by large wild humans (thanks, both US and UK Customs!) , and then inserted into a plastic bag by the Post Office. Miraculously, both were still intact. I've got it on the worktop which sticks out between the kitchen and the dining room, as that's where I, and guests, spend most time in here.

Here are a couple of the decorations: first one exquisitely stitched by Nina in Texas

then a beaded one on perforated paper I made a couple of years back

and finally one my Mam got from a penfriend at least 50 years ago.


There are also a couple of glass ones on there from my grandparents' first Christmas tree in the 1930s, and other ones stitched by friends. The nice thing about having a small tree is that you can put up just the ornaments with memories and associations... The most recent are some Ikea gingham hearts contributed by the next-door neighbours who moved out last week...

And yes, that is a Clanger in a tutu on top. It's finally starting to feel like Christmas here.