Long day of cleaning, laundry, and cooking, and I decided to put up my tree this year, so this will be a short one. I’m putting up my own tree just to celebrate the fact that I survived the heart attack. The decorations were amassed over the years and my travels, inherited from my parents, or given to me by friends, and I want to look back on all of it in gratefulness for the joy I’ve known in this life, while also looking forward to many more years of life, lawd willin’ and the creek don’t rise.
Here is Washington, D.C.’s tree for the year, going out to a whole bunch of people–Don, Mark, Scott, Haisam, Amanda, and Cyndi.
Washington, D.C.’s state Christmas tree, 2023. Click to embiggen.
As long as I’m posting D.C.’s tree, I’ll add the National Christmas tree as well, since all of these trees are in D.C.
The National Christmas Tree, 2023. What a hot mess.
Yes, it’s looking a little rough. It fell over and had to be hoisted back up with a crane. I don’t think they did too much to fix the lights or the streamers. When I first took a good look at it, I thought someone had TP’d it.
Then there is the other extreme, the tree in front of the Town Hall in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia. A smaller tree down by the water in Old Town looked the same. I guess they don’t believe in putting anything on top.
Christmas tree in front of Alexandria Town Hall in Virginia.
To be honest, I prefer the National Tree. I prefer a wild, hot mess to stringent precision. Pretty sure that’s how my own tree will turn out tonight, too. Usually I weave the lights through the branches one at a time, but I don’t have the patience for it so it’s a rather loose weave. By the time I’m done with the lights I might be done for the evening and have to put off decorating the tree until tomorrow night, but that’s okay. No one is going to see it but me, and it’s worth it.
Had dinner with one of my besties in Old Town, Alexandria tonight. So very nice to be out and about, having a nice meal with a dear friend, walking around seeing the lights, and seeing all the other people who were out having a good time, many of them in Christmas sweaters, Santa hats, reindeer headpieces, and Christmas light and garland necklaces. It finally felt like things had returned to normal, like before the pandemic. So many happy people.
It was the first time I ate in a restaurant since the heart attack, and although I was a little nervous about the sodium content in the food, the server was kind enough to talk to the chef and he prepared my dish in a low-sodium way. Never be afraid to speak up about dietary restrictions, folks. People are usually more than happy to help. As with anything else, given a chance, most people will take the opportunity to be kind and helpful.
My buddy gifted me with three charming hand-knitted Christmas trees, as knitted by her roommate. They’re currently on my desk in my home office, but they will go out to the living room tomorrow.
Hand-knit Christmas trees, made with love by Ruth.
Remember how there was no fortune in the fortune cookie that came with my traditional birthday take-out? Not that I’m supersitious or anything, but I did have my heart attack four days later.
My buddy always has my back, however, so she threw three fortune cookies into the gift bag and said I could choose the one to carry in my wallet for the year.
The first one said, “Calamity is the touchstone of a brave mind.” Well, Liz, I think we can agree that I’ve had enough bravery for the time being so maybe not that one.
The next one said, “A shooting star tonight will bring you good luck tomorrow!” I guess I will buy a few scratchers tomorrow, heh.
The third one said, “To make the wheels go, you must grease the wheels.” This is probably the most fitting, as I am planning on making some major life changes in 2024, so that one it is! Thank you Liz!
Here are a couple of denizens of Old Town that caught my eye.
Henlo, fren!
The Hard Times Horse.
The Hard Times Horse is an unofficial landmark in Old Town. The story goes that Fred Parker, the fellow who opened the restaurant back in 1980, saw the horse in a tack shop in rural Virginia. The horse modeled saddles, but the tack shop was getting rid of it, so he bought it and put it in the back of his antique truck. He and his sons drove the truck around to different events in the D.C. area. Parker died in 2020, but his sons still drive it in parades. It’s a great story, and I’m glad I found an article about it because I’ve been wondering about it for years.
And now, tonight’s state trees are going out to two sisters I really must have dinner and a couple of margaritas with someday, Michelle and Karen. I “met” Michelle through MySpace, when we were both in a bird group and at the time had the same combination of birds, a Nanday Conure and a Green Cheek Conure. Karen’s posts on Michelle’s wall always cracked me up—the two sisters took the Ermahgerd meme to new heights—so with a couple of clicks, there we were. Ermahgerd, Chrersmers Trers!
Connecticut’s state Christmas tree, 2023. Click to embiggen.
Colorado’s state Christmas tree, 2023. Click to embiggen.
Ah, California. A state I’ve been to many times, although not in recent years. I’m definitely more a northern California type and prefer San Francisco to Los Angeles—although San Diego is quite lovely.
My ex-husband proposed to me in San Francisco actually. He meant to do it while we were on a horseback ride at Half Moon Bay, but when he tried to bring his horse parallel to mine, it trotted away, taking him and his grand proposal with it. It was kind of funny to see, as he had precious little experience with horses, if any, where I had been a mere 20 years out from not only Camp 4H on Long Island, where I took classes in equitation, but also starting a horseback riding club at my high school. Riding a horse is not unlike riding a bike, in my experience. You never really forget how. Therefore, it gave me a chuckle to see him bouncing in the saddle as his horse trotted up the beach.
Our guide was not amused, however, and it took some doing to turn my ex around and back toward the group. Instead, my ex proposed to me just outside the Legion of Honor, where there was a view of the Golden Gate Bridge.
That’s kind of how things were with my ex-husband. He’d always just forge ahead, figuring he’d learn as he went, and it often ended up in some kind minor and eventually amusing catastrophe. I was into downhill skiing, and as he was open to trying new things, when we were dating we took a ski trip up to Mont Sutton in Quebec. I firmly believe in the saying “friends don’t teach friends how to ski” and figured that went twice over for romantic partners, so we took lessons, my ex to learn and me to refresh my skills. Well, the first time we took a lift together, when he got off he didn’t stand up. Instead, there he went, skiing in a squat right toward the back, ungroomed side of the mountain.
“Dan! DAN, FALL!” I yelled, choking back tears of laughter. “FALL DOWN!”
I haven’t seen anything that funny on a ski slope since. However, in his defense, getting off the lift is often a challenge for beginners. I learned that when you’re not sure what to do and you can’t control where you’re going, it’s usually a good idea to just lean over and fall into the snow. It’s better than crashing into another skier or a tree—or skiing off the back side of a mountain. (My beginner moment was NOT falling, and instead skiing right into a tow-rope operator who caught me just before I skied into a stream at Sunday River in Maine.)
My ex and I went to Jamaica for our honeymoon, and when we rented a canoe he paddled us out too far and then capsized the canoe. I was able to dive down quickly enough to grab my wallet, so I didn’t lose my ID, but I did lose some sunglasses I was rather fond of. When we got back home he gave me a gift certificate to get new sunglasses, and that’s how I came to acquire the pair of Ralph Laurens that I still wear to this day, 22 years later. It was quite a memory. Some naked guys sailed past us from the nudist resort next to where we were staying. There’s nothing like reconsidering your brand new marriage while clinging in fury to the side of a canoe, and just when you think help has arrived, you look up to see a pair of hairy arses sitting on the edge of a sailboat while the owners of said arses laugh at you as they sail by. Eventually the safety patrol at the resort came out to get us. Quite embarrassing.
My wasband had a great sense of adventure, though, so I have to give him props for just getting out there and doing new things even if they didn’t always go as planned, like marriage to me.
Anyway, here’s the California state Christmas tree, complete with a few ornaments showing the Golden Gate Bridge, my favorite bridge in the world. Click to enlarge. This one is dedicated to my friend Susan, who has made not one but two trips to see Poets of the Fall not only fun, but super coordinated and easy for me to plan and navigate, first to Prog Power in Atlanta in 2019, and more recently to Warsaw, Poland, just last September. Susan, I promise, one day I WILL take a picture with Jaska!
California’s state Christmas tree, 2023. Click to embiggen.
zenzalei 