Chestnuts roasting on an open fire? No chance, not with two cats. Besides, I've never had chestnuts. Jack Frost nips at our nose, and heels, and everything in between thanks to the badly insulated house we own. 1950's Yuletide carols are being sung by a choir via KWXY in streaming sound over the web (many thanks for that tip, Steve, it's like I never left Palm Springs). But nobody's dressed like Eskimos, or Inuits as we Seattleites prefer to call them. Northern Californians refuse to believe that it actually drops below 40 degrees here every winter. So instead we have folks dressed up like self-deluded nutcakes, some of them still in shorts and sandals, though admittedly these same folks often have heavy beards and a wild-eyed look.
We have a tree. Do you understand the significance of that? It's only one day into the double digits of December and we have a tree! And it's tiny, too, only four and a half feet. So teensy, so delightfully petite, so full of pine-scented goodness. Which means we can't load it up with every ornament we own, our normal Christmas tradition. I have secretly desired a theme tree for many years, something with just two colors or only one kind of ornament. I've finally gotten my Interior Designer manque wish. This year the tree will be decked out in nothing but red chili pepper lights and silver and red ball ornaments.
In honor of the small party I'm giving on Sunday, or rather to save my honor and hide the ravages of those same two cats that put the kibosh on any open fires, I bought slipcovers for my chairs. The dining room chair slipcovers went on easily, no problem. But the armchairs? Cartoonish. Exhausting. I wrestled for 20 minutes getting the first one on, and the effect is less than elegant. But by golly the living room looks better. The armchairs are now a deep dusky green, and the dining room chairs are covered in burgundy velvet. Charming. Delightful. Worth every penny.
And in the fireplace we have three red-orange lava lamps casting a psychologically warm glow. It's surprisingly effective. But someday I'm going to buy a firescreen and have a real fire. It sure would feel nice to snuggle up with John in front of a toasty fire and drink hot chocolate while the pets attempt to climb in our laps and generally interfere with the romance.
We need some new traditions.
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