Tuesday, December 16, 2008

All I want for Christmas is a sense of scale.

I have a lousy sense of scale: in clothing stores the garments I bring into the changing room are either falling off me or screaming at the seams halfway up my legs; I frequently have to change pots mid-cooking because I'd overestimated capacity; pieces of furniture prove too large for the spaces I was certain they'd tuck right into.

Last night I went to the local Christmas-tree lot in 8-degree weather and surveyed the array of frozen evergreens. I saw a "small" tree and made my purchase. I had an inkling, as I carried it the few blocks to my home, that it may have been larger than it looked; for one, it was much bigger than me, and seemed to grow, Through-The-Lookingglass-like, as I walked gingerly along the icy sidewalk. Usually I get a tree about four-feet tall and place it on a table; maneuvering this beast up the front stairs was straight out of Fawlty Towers. I finally got it in, leaned it against the futon, and took stock.

It was easily seven feet tall.

No table. And I needed a stool to put on the lights and decorations.

But it is lovely, and with the snow whipping by outside, it makes the inside that much more cozy.

Next, egg nog. I have a feeling I'll end up with three gallons.


SP said...

Athena would have known how many cubits of tree she could handle.

Anonymous said...

Post us a picture of your tree!

JC said...

photo is coming!

Athena would not have celebrated Christmas. It would have pissed off her father.

SP said...

Well, at least Athena got some decent presents this year.

JC said...