Farrago

I spent about fourteen hours at Adele and Dean's on Saturday. It was wonderfully fun and sad and hilarious and awkward and heartwarming and distressing and and and.
I met Mona and Pete and Rose and Cassandra and Dad (who was working a shift) at the Kiwanis Christmas tree lot on Sunday. We ran and shrieked and hugged and smooched and jumped and sang Welcome Christmas (the abu-dore one from the Grinch) around one of the trees and this thing parked next to my l'il Epona (this picture does not accurately show the size difference ... it's just about twice as high, twice as wide and easily twice as long).


Here are the socky slippers for my godmother, before washing and washing and washing and washing in hot water (this pair took about a dozen wash cycles to shrink down enough) and some more little sockies for Anailese's advent calendar and a mouse for scale.


And here they are post-washingandwashingandwashing


Instead of cleaning the house and running errands, I put up my Christmas tree today. It has a light in the base with a turning multi-coloured gel above it and fibre optics in the branches, so it's all twinkly. There are some truly awful artificial trees out there. It takes a lot of looking to find one with this high a cheese factor. The ginormous fluffy star on the top helps. See the sweet little wreath Patty and the girls made out of chestnuts from their tree?


It's decorated with mardi gras beads, stars, origami cranes that Cory made for me, little mirrors and plastic chandelier crystals.