Man-Shop

I’m going to admit something horrible.  I am embarrassed of my husband.  It’s not his fault, really.  He’s actually quite wonderful.  What embarrasses me is that I picked him.  All six foot two of him.  Broad shoulders and British accent to boot.  His swoon-worthy charm and subtle gentlemanliness makes women feel flattered, never perved, and men feel included, never over-shadowed.  I really overshot the mark. 

You see, my whole life, I have been a bargain shopper.  I love digging right down to the bottom of the bin and finding the bits that have been overlooked by the other customers.  In much the same way that I rock a pair of grenadine-colored wide-leg corduroys, I can totally pull off an overweight genius-slacker.  Artistic short guy with a Napoleon complex?  I think I’ve still got one of those in the back of my wardrobe.  Sexy foreign serial cheater?  I do believe I had a matched set at one time. I suppose I thought it made me interesting to demonstrate that I had an eye for a diamond in the rough.  But, most of these guys turned out to be jerks rather than gems.  Relationships were a lot of hard work.  I was on a bit of a break from tromping the outlets when I discovered what life really had in store. 

My husband, Big Daddy, is the kind of goods you see in the window of Bergdorf Goodman: Top of the line.  Even though I wasn’t in the market to buy, I thought I’d try him on.  It’s no surprise he fit like a dream and made me look great.  With him, I appear younger and more expensive.  No wonder I had to have him.  The shocker was the cost: I got him for a song. “Georgia On My Mind,” to be precise.  He says it was the night that I sang that one in the Dining Room of the Silversea Cruises Silver Shadow, that he got the idea that I was interesting.  So, at least he thinks so… even if I look like a sell-out to the rest of the world.  I hope no self-respecting flea-market fashionista would truly blame me for taking home such a prize. 

Now that I think of it, he did turn out to be a “Buy One Get One Free,” sort of a deal.  I bought the husband.  I had no idea he would be such a great father.  Gotta love scoring a “Two-fer!”

Tree Of Life

           This tree is not going to decorate itself.  As I sit on my large leather  living room chair, gazing at the corner where our family Christmas tree will soon reside, I realize it is time to get real about what’s going on in our home. This house is tastefully decorated.  It’s green, it’s brown, it’s earthy.  I love it.  But, when Christmas crashes in, all of this sparkly, maribou stuff appears and throws everything way off balance.  How did this happen? 

            Before the boys came along, I admit I held out hope that one day we’d have a daughter.  I had no idea what a blessing sons would be. Although they are only young, it is obvious they are destined to inherit Big Daddy’s strapping physique and masculine demeanor.  H-Man entered the world at nearly 10 pounds, and G-Love (our “little one”) came in at just around nine. They have both grown into boys who are into stuff like cars and lions and meat. Nick nackery around our home is going down a decidedly boyish path.  Now the Christmas tree I have been decorating my whole life is having gender identity issues.
            Looking over the array of lovely ornaments I have collected during my extensive years of travel, I am coming to the conclusion that I have spent a small fortune on delicate, beautiful things that neither reflect me nor compliment the life I have grown into. Waterford crystal?  I’m not hanging that anywhere within reach of my rambunctious boos.  Hand-blown glass from Mexico?  Imagine vacuuming up the shards.  Japanese paper?  What if juice gets on it?  Peacock feathers?  Anything bejeweled?  Too girly. Too frilly. Too freaking chokeable.  If I continue to use this stuff, there will be bits of glitter, feathers, and small beads everywhere.  And not in a good way.  In quite a messy, worrisome, “Don’t let him put that in his mouth!” way.  Sigh… 

            I’ve come to the realization that my idea of “how Christmas looks” has evolved.  It was once a shining, sequined story, starring me. It is now about a cast of four, and I get to view the holiday through the lens of each amazing, silly, special character.  I had the same princess dream that so many girls do.  In my naivete, I believed that dream always came packaged in pink, and wrapped with wire-edged ribbon, and put a lot of stuff in my world that doesn’t really represent the splendor of my now Queenly life.  In this version, there is elegance.  There is plenty.  Perhaps there is not as much beading, but there are rocking horses.  And way more cookies!

            After much thought, I have vowed to concept my tree.  The concept is: Rustic Elegance, by way of BoyChild-Friendly.  There’s no theme, mind you.  We are not making any sort of soccer statement or anything (shudder).  I simply want our family Christmas tree to tell a story of who we are today. By the way, “who we are today” may be represented by a very tasteful amount of glitter here and there. 

            Here are some of the objects I am working with…

Fabric garland made by me.  

See tutorial at http://www.thelovelypoppy.com/2100/10/24/fabric-scrap-garland-tutorial/

 Small plaques from Classic Trends Boutique in Arlington, Tennessee's Depot Square.

Sock Monkey ornaments from Cracker Barrel.

Music picks from Pottery Barn.