Sunday, November 29, 2009

Thanksgiving and After

Today for breakfast I has more of the wonderful food Dee and Ed prepared for Thanksgiving, eight people and two dogs, a wood fire. And now I have my own leftovers from a dinner party last night: four people, one cat and a wood fire. There is something so grounding and soothing about a wood fire, not because it is cold - this morning I was kayaking at high tide, and my washing is drying in brilliant sunshine. The sun is low, dazzling off the water, the rooms are full of dancing reflections from the ceilings, everything is clean and in apple-pie order partly I think because this weather is so energising, the deed follows the thought.

I am avoiding any thoughts of Christmas. I have yet to do anything practical with the vintage Christmas skeleton tree I found. A woosh of white spray paint? ( ) Certainly a flutter of hysteria, and mall-dread, tinsel-loathing and horror at the prospect of the tsunami of food coming my way.

From two years ago: "theory that Christmas trees are the sad little tarts of trees: uprooted, tricked out for our pleasure then ruthlessly discarded when they lose their bloom. Rape and pillage."


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