Just the thought of getting out the regular Christmas tree made me want to scream. Some years we just do not do it. We end up on the forced march of Family Christmases anyway, and since Barry who really cares about it will roll in late on Christmas Eve if we are lucky, it just does not seem worth it.
Doing it by myself would just make me sad.
Today I mentioned to Rita that I wanted a crazy tree--just a little one, but as outrageous as possible. She mentioned having seen a fuschia tree at Big Lots, a 3 foot one. PERFECT! So off I went to learn they did not have it, but they had this six foot affair.
When you are going for absurd, bigger is better, I guess. I snatched it up and brought her home.
Even the dogs are scared of it. Barry won't answer the text picture I sent him of it--he is probably scared to come home.
I like her though. Its obnoxious and stupid and that is just what I need right now. I love her. I probably will not even put any ornaments on it. She is perfectly hideous just as she is.