Five Green Acres Mary Jo + Andrew Borchardt Poynette, WI
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O Tannenbaum.

O Tannenbaum.
December 11, 2009 Mary Jo

How about a tour of our lovely tree?

It’s extra good this year, having come from our friends’ yard.  (with their permission)

Ah, the beautiful vintage glass ornaments.  Not too many of those left, as we lose a few each year to the inevitable plummet to the floor.  I believe I found a gold mine of these during my college must-collect-everything-I’ll-ever-need-for-my-home-someday rummage saleing.  The fluffy pink thing on the right hand side is what we fondly call a Pink Christmas Chicken.  It was made from a pink fine feather boa I had in my craft stash.  I made a ton of these many years ago (same college hope-chest-building years?) and also gave one to select members of the family.  I’ve been known to get ornery if the Pink Christmas Chicken is not prominently displayed on their respective tree.  A friendly reminder to dig those out, if only for that one day when I’ll be there.

And new this year, that missing element of tree perfection that I’ve been trying to find for several years now:  a garland.  Three years ago, I made a boatload (75) of those little owls that were all the rage, with the intention of stringing them into a garland.

I did so, for a handful, stringing on cotton balls between them for spacing, and then Christmas was over.  The next year, pulling the project out again, I decided it was too “busy” for the tree, so there they sat…until this year, where they’ve been resurrected in a new project (coming soon) and the garland has come to fruition with the help of SouleMama’s Handmade Home book.  Felt square garland?  Got a million felt scraps.  Done.  And it was just the ticket.  ‘Of course’, Andrew remarked.  ‘It’s only fitting that we have some fabric on the tree.  That’s perfect.’  (Yep.  Still love that man.)

Oh boy, do I have a fondness for quirky handmade ornaments.  Is it because I’m a Maker myself that I am constantly “rescuing” the discarded handmade?  It’s a calling I take quite seriously.  And the more amateur, (goofy, forlorn) the better.  This reindeer is one of my favorites.  Here’s another, below.

And the Sock Monkey.  Sigh.  A tradition in my husband’s family; I’m a little foggy on the specifics.  I think they always hung one on the tree?  Then, the year all three (grown) sons received one of their very own, they lost no time reliving their particular tradition, which involved manipulating the monkey’s bendy legs and tail.  Mostly tail. Naughty, naughty boys.  And each year, on our very own tree, the Monkey is proudly displayed as an homage to Boyish Naughtiness.  It’s fine with me; we don’t live in a church.   I do try to be aware of him though, and adjust him to a less vulgar, less erect pose if we’re expecting visitors who are not so “cultured.”  So far Isadora’s not noticed anything amiss.  Daddio can handle that one when she does, probably next year. Heads-up, Daddio.

And shining atop our tree for the second year in a row is our porcupine.  Born of equal parts necessity and whimsy, we needed a topper, having found our fiber optic angel a wee garish for our changing tree aesthetic.  At hand was this porcupine made from some kind of bark pieces.  All it needed was a star on its back to fit the requirements as a topper.  That was easy.  I basked in my apparent cleverness, thinking I’d created the perfect topper that was so us.  (it was, and still is) Then we came upon this Children’s book, and thought that maybe someone was spying on us.  Note to Santa:  this book would be a good addition to the Christmas library.

So there you have it.  Why not join us for some of Andrew’s World Famous Eggnog (courtesy of the Lovely Ladies) and bask it its cheery warmth?

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