Today was an unusually warm December day with clear skies. I strapped Bruno to me, walked up the High Street in search of a Christmas tree.
We found something I could drag back without causing too much damage.
Bruno remained in his bag as I battled with the tree.
Bruno is too cute! Female BFF texted. Probably wondering about the indoor forest!
I also put together the above ‘floral arrangement’. It’s an idea I saw in a magazine. I was curious to give it a go, add my own twist to things.
Christmas is like a staged production for me, culminating on Christmas Eve at dinner. Just like piecing a dance together, there actually is method to my madness.
First, I decide on a theme. This can be in terms of colour, or a specific narrative. Initially, I had hope to explore black this Christmas. This idea was dropped because I could not find a black table cloth within walking distance, and settled for pale grey instead.
The tablecloth is like the backdrop on stage. It sets a tone. Re-using what’s existing in my kitchen, as well as past Christmases, I decided to construct a narrative that hinted at woods, at an enchanted forest.
I needed animals- birds are a Christmas favourite, glitter, glass, trees, pieces of ribbon, fairies. I needed lights, feathers, flowers. I unwrapped a stone angel.
I’ve no idea where he’ll go.
That’s a big tree for petite you, Male BFF texted.
Uh huh. Taller than me… and remember, I have a broken arm…
Hahaha! Enjoy doing up the tree!
Getting there, I watsapped Jon. Had to carry it in…
Omg, baby! You’re awesome!
Grateful; for loved ones who really understand me.
It’s really all choreography. You play with steps, you pause, you reflect. While I like a Christmas tree laden with ornaments, there still exists a strict structure to my more is more is more.
The grey of the table cloth is echoed in the ornaments, the birds and glass used elsewhere in the house are repeated on the tree. The concept of woods and the natural world is also repeated in the set of new glassware I bought because this Christmas, I am feeding a table of 10.
A table of 10 poses interesting dilemmas. But, once upon a time, I did create a duet danced on a narrow table.
And while the table brought about the real challenges of limited space and the possibility of danger, it also forced me to embrace restrictions with a sense of play and inventiveness. It’s a duet of imagination, soaring athleticism, and trust. It’s a duet I still enjoy.
I don’t know what I’m feeding my guests next week now that I can’t fit a turkey in the oven. I’ve no idea where everyone will sit. But like dance, choreographing Christmas is just more fun when faced with situations you don’t quite have ready answers for, yet.