let lemons be angry

The first Saturday of the year spent at home.

Not quite at home, actually. I went shopping alone and encountered older ladies asking my opinion on things twice. I bought myself an easel and slippers and contemplated buying secondhand copies of the Enid Blyton books I remembered best.

My heel hurts as if there was a nail driven through it.



Also, we bought a christmas tree, just like my childhood days. We've long thrown away the old decorations. My favourites when I was young were the glittery red apples. I would pretend they were the forbidden fruit and pluck them off the tree. Obviously I didn't understand the application of Eve's story.

Shopping for the Christmas tree was fun. We met fibre optic trees that had built-in baubles or stars, and when I tried pulling the stars off they went, "Me-rry Christmas! Ho ho ho!" Because of that we had to settle for a non-fibre optic tree that is a cute five feet, and looks like a baby tree standing all alone in our living room.

Pagan practice or not, a Christmas tree is a fun thing to have when you want to have Christmas parties and need to get into the mood of a party. Nothing to do with Jesus's birth, everything to do with my childhood.