Our little tree

Every ornament on my family's tree has some significance. The wooden ones were painted by mom when she was pregnant with my brother. The little skiing snowman was made by the mother of my best friend from third grade who moved away, leaving me bereft. And there's the stuffed crab from the "Little Mermaid" that McDonald's gave away, like, 13 years ago -- and even though my mother hates it, it ends up on the tree every year.

It's always my job to unwrap the ornaments, place them on the tree and explain their significance. This routine has probably worn thin on my family, who would prefer to watch football or perhaps just sit in quiet contemplation, but they listen anyway.

So it was a little weird this year to put the ornaments on our first tree here in Brooklyn. I've never had a live tree before, and it was a bit of an adventure carrying it along Court Street, up four flights then readjusting it numerous times using complex maneuvers that resembled a game of "Twister," only with pine needles.



(We are aware that it's lopsided -- the tree cutter fellow, who seemed perfectly competent, accidentally cut off too many lower branches, and there's a bald patch in the back reminiscent of Kelsey Grammer's head.)

So this year, our ornaments have no stories yet. I bought a bunch of vintage flocked Santas and reindeer off ebay. They look like they were well-loved in their last home, seeing as one is missing an eye.







And I couldn't resist picking up some cute wooden Martha Stewart ornaments at K-Mart. (Ok, I went to K-Mart three times because I really wanted them and they hadn't received a shipment yet.)



I guess that by next year they will each have a story -- they'll be the first ornaments we put on our first tree, which was a little lopsided but still lovable.