I’m thinking of past Christmases, way way back. My Uncle John arriving at 6:00 with a santa hat and sleigh bells. Nana snoring on the living room side of the door–keeping us from going in to see the tree. Putting up the huge tree on Christmas Eve…the huge tree…that is the heart of the matter. My first tree:
Chicago, 1944
Court Street, 1987
Huge trees. Trees we cut down sometimes and hauled home. Trees you needed a ladder to decorate. And now, in my almost-golden years, I switched to numerous tiny fake trees all over the place. Hmmmmm???!! It means something? Or not. Merry Christmas!!!






Nice tinsel job on the 1944 tree. You are definitely shrinking and that is good. Save a tree’s life and have a little light shrine in every room works just as well.
I wonder if a last-minute tinsel errand was a part of the ’44 tree?
Sure looks like it! A great shot, the light flooding the room. Wonder where that ’44 tree grew…Hmm.